Sunshine
by SpicedGold
Summary: Sequel to Opening the Doors. Elsa's road to recovery is not the straight and easy line she expected. She feels like she living on the very edge of a break down at all times. But now that Anna's at her side every step of the way, they must be able to find a light at the end of the tunnel.
1. Chapter 1 - Do You Believe in Magic

Chapter 1 – Do You believe in Magic?

**I'm back with more melancholy. This is the sequel to Opening the Doors. Reading that is not a prerequisite to this, but it would be helpful. The development of this story was helped by TheFrozenQueenOfSnowAndIce. Thank you.**

**I figured I'd dive right in with the feels, so let's see if this story can live up the emotional turmoil of its predecessor.**

**SpicedGold**

"Elsa, darling? Why aren't you asleep?" The Queen of Arendelle came to her oldest daughter's bed. It had been some time since she had left the two princesses sleeping soundly, and now, hours later, she was doing a last check on the children before bed.

But one princess was sitting up, staring at the moon in the sky, her blonde hair made of moonbeams.

"I couldn't sleep. Anna snores."

The offending princess was out like a light, and utterly silent.

"Oh, I see." The Queen sat down, put an arm around her daughter. This was often Elsa's excuse; it was always Anna's fault for Elsa's waking. But Elsa's mind was often plagued with powerful thoughts and feelings, and many things woke her at night. Blaming Anna made it feel like Elsa wasn't cowering away from her own thoughts. This unease wasn't her _fault_.

Often it was the pull of power, the snow and ice under her skin trying to break loose, that coaxed her from sleep. If she held the ice in too long it invaded her dreams and twisted its emotions through her sleep until Elsa awoke in a pile of snow.

But night time brought comfort, too. She had to hide her powers during the daylight hours, she had to keep them a secret, for now, and it meant that this tiny little child, only seven years old, had to keep her true self a secret too. A heavy burden to bear, to only be allowed to be yourself when you were certain that no one was watching.

"Anna's not snoring now."

"No." Elsa agreed. "She's stopped." Swirls of blue danced around her fingers, against her will, showing her agitation. She kept staring at the moon. "Do you want to see what I dreamed of?"

This, too, was a common excuse. Elsa would make up elaborate stories, happy stories, to cover up the demons she saw at night.

"Yes, of course," the Queen said softly, still holding Elsa against her side.

Elsa raised her arms, and a wiggle of her fingers produced more streaks of ice blue sparkles, more magic. She clenched the tip of her tongue between her teeth, concentrating hard, and her face morphed into a frown off utter concentration.

The blue moved, took shape, and became a lumpy misshapen snowman. "I dreamed of him."

The snowman had been under her skin all day, but as per the rules, she could not use her magic around other people. She had to hide it, hide him, hide herself. She concentrated, but the snowman wavered away and disappeared.

"He looks like he was a lot of fun," the Queen said.

"He is. He likes hugs." Elsa grinned.

"Hugs like this?" Idun scooped Elsa off the bed and onto her lap, holding onto her.

Elsa giggled. "Just like that. But I like hugs more than he does. You'll always give me hugs, right?"

"Right until the day you ask me to stop," Idun promised.

"Well," speculated the young princess. "_That'll_ never happen."

"Then I'll never stop giving you hugs."

Elsa's attention was suddenly caught by the window again. The sky above the mountain tops burst to life, weaving ribbons of bright, colourful lights through true inky black.

"Look, Elsa," Idun said. "The sky is awake."

"Papa says the sky isn't awake, because it isn't a thing," Elsa said, in the haughty way children speak when they think they're one-upping an adult. "I know that."

"Why do you know that?"

"Because I'm going to be a Queen one day, and it's the sort of thing a Queen ought to know." Elsa sent her mother a sideways look, as though questioning her ability as a monarch. "I don't believe that the sky is awake." She seemed proud of this declaration.

"Then how is the sky shining?" Idun asked.

That floored Elsa. She chewed her lip, thinking hard, because she was going to be a Queen one day, and this the sort of thing a Queen ought to know. She hummed to herself, still thinking. Finally, she shrugged. "I don't know. But I don't believe it's alive."

"Maybe it's magic," the Queen suggested softly. She took Elsa's tiny hands in her own. "You believe in magic, don't you?"

Elsa grinned. "Of course I believe in magic." She stared at her hands, a proud smile on her face. "Because I am magic, and I believe in me."

* * *

><p>'<em>I believe in me.' When did I stop thinking that?<em>

Now, Elsa sat under the window, watching the northern lights dance through the sky. It had been a long, hard day, but despite the fact that she was bone tired, she couldn't bring herself to sleep. Her eyes were aching, the world around her sounded dull, but she was stubbornly staring at the sky, because she liked the dark, and the comfort it brought, and after the day she had had she didn't want to waste the night sleeping.

That, and she was afraid of the dreams that came when she was feeling this way. When the world around her was tight and hot, when her heart hammered in her chest at the littlest of things, when her hands shook and her voice shook, when the white scars on her arm screamed for attention.

These were nights that drew in nightmares, terrible thoughts that crammed themselves into the void of her mind and reared up when she was trying to settle down. And they would send her heart racing anew, and sometimes rip the ice from her body, and she didn't want to face that right now.

Tomorrow, she knew, would be worse than today. Today had been work, and more work, and she was able to cope with that, given time. But tomorrow . . . tomorrow she and Anna were going through their late parents' things. Documents, clothes, books, trinkets.

Everything that they had been avoiding for four years.

Anna thought it would be cathartic.

Elsa thought it would be agonizing.

And if she fell asleep thinking of her parents, twisted ugly dreams would arise. So she stared at the sky, instead, remembering a time when she had believed in magic.

"Elsa?" A very soft voice, weighed down by sleep. "You awake? Why are you awake?"

"Why are _you_?" Elsa asked, turning to face her door.

Anna was rubbing her eyes; she looked as though it had taken a superhuman effort just to get there. She was clearly asleep on her feet. "Checking on you."

"Anna, you're so tired. Why didn't you stay in bed?" Elsa stood up, going to her sister worriedly. "I'm fine, but you-"

"Bae told me to come." Anna admitted with a yawn, eyes staying stubbornly closed. She swayed slightly in place; Elsa stepped forwards to catch her in case she fell. Anna made a vague gesture with one hand. "He said you were sad."

Elsa couldn't really deny it.

The creature in question stood at Anna's feet, gazing upwards with eyes of endless ice blue. He was a reindeer calf crafted from snow, a promise from Elsa to Anna that Elsa would never, ever shut her sister out again. And since she had created him, he was innately linked to her emotions.

He sensed when she was sad, or upset, or agonising over decisions, and he alerted Anna to it. Obviously her internal musing this evening had been melancholy enough that the calf had woken Anna.

"It's fine, Anna. I was just thinking. I'm fine, and nothing's wrong." She had to reassure, to convince Anna that no, actually, she wasn't teetering on the edge of an emotional relapse. Both sisters were still shaken from events just a few weeks prior, where Elsa, under the weight of all she had to be, had come undone and taken a shard of ice to her wrist.

She was on the road to recovery now, but, she was discovering, the road to recovery was not a straight and simple line.

"Thank you, Bae," she addressed the calf, who rubbed his nose against Anna's leg. She must have been very asleep, because she didn't even flinch at the cold. "You can take Anna back to bed now."

"It's too far," Anna mumbled, leaning more and more of her weight on Elsa. "I'll just sleep here."

And just like that the room was frigid, because Elsa knew what lay in store tonight. Tonight there would be screaming and kicking and terror because her mind was going to unearth her every fear and thrust them behind her closed eyes.

Tonight the world would not be safe.

"You can't stay here, Anna. Go back to bed."

There was no answer from the semi-comatose princess hanging off Elsa's shoulder. Elsa sighed, and led Anna to the edge of the bed. She struggled to pull the covers back with one hand, and rather unceremoniously dropped Anna.

Anna arranged herself happily, and was instantly asleep.

Elsa pulled the covers over her, and whispered to the calf. "Stay with her."

Bae snorted, and jumped onto the bed. He turned a few circles, then settled into a tangle of legs and floppy ears, his eyes closing as well.

Elsa left them quietly to find somewhere else to sleep.

* * *

><p>She should have chosen Anna's room, she thought, when she awoke later in a state, fists frozen into the blankets, snow piling onto the floor as she moved, ice crackling up the walls in a familiar fashion. She should have gone to Anna's bed, and breathed into Anna's pillow and reminded herself that Anna was alive and well and warm.<p>

The ice was still spreading, racing in webs with every beat of her heart. She stared into the darkness, head turned to where she knew, just knew, her parent's portrait would be staring back at her.

This was their room, after all.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm trying."

The crackling ice betrayed her, and the tears that been hiding all day reformed. She lay down again, in the soft snow, and let the tears go.

_Conceal it, don't feel it . . ._ no, that was wrong. _Let it go,_ that was right. She sobbed into the pillow.

_Let it go, let it go._

_Can't hold it back anymore._

"I'm trying," she whispered again. "I'm doing better."

The tears were okay. They were just the bad thoughts leaving. They weren't weakness; they weren't something to be ashamed of. They were the nightmares escaping.

"_You believe in magic, don't you?"_

Elsa sniffed, and closed her eyes again. The darkness wrapped around her, it laid a blanket of calm over her. _I believe there _is_ magic._

_There's a difference._


	2. Chapter 2 - Not Fit to Rule

Chapter 2 – Not Fit to Rule

"And this is a drawing I did when I was . . ." Anna squinted at the faded piece of paper. "Eight. Ish."

She smiled fondly. "Aw, look at it. I drew a snowman. I think it's meant to be Olaf, but I didn't really remember him at the time. And this one is," she eased another sheet of paper from the messy pile on the floor in front of her. "By you. It has a title and a date and everything, and has your hand writing always been so neat?"

Elsa finally looked up from her desk, glancing at the piles of things surrounding Anna on the study floor, then turned her attention back to the box of letters she had been sorting idly into chronological order.

The question didn't need an answer, Anna was already talking again. "Here's the journal I tried to keep one summer. I only wrote about one page, then got bored." She flicked through the tattered book. "It's got a few drawings in it, and some scribbles. Here's a plan about how I was going to climb into your bedroom window from the tree outside."

"That tree is at least ten metres from my window," Elsa pointed out. "There is no possible way to reach it."

"You lack imagination," Anna said haughtily. "It's all here. Look," Anna extracted herself from the mess on the floor and thrust the journal in front of Elsa.

She had to move back slightly to put the doodle into focus, and raised a doubtful eyebrow. "Anna, I don't think it would have worked."

"It didn't."

"You tried?"

"Yes. I fell out of the tree trying to get enough momentum to make the jump, and landed in a bush. I ripped my dress, and Mama lectured me about it for days. She said I should behave more like –" Anna broke off, suddenly casting her eyes at the floor. "Well. She just told me to behave."

Elsa didn't say anything.

Anna went back to her spot on the floor, clearing her throat and continuing her rummaging. "I pressed a lot of flowers, too." Dried petals were scattered around her; upending a dusty box on one of the bottom shelves had resulted in a small flower shower. "Mama said pressing them made sure they lasted forever. But . . ." Anna stopped again, sending an uneasy glance at her sister.

This was supposed to be helping; they were sorting through their parents things together. This was meant to give them both closure, to help Elsa fully accept the fact that everything now rested solely on her shoulders. This was supposed to help them both overcome the emotional breakdown Elsa had had a few weeks ago.

But part of Anna was afraid she was going to make it worse again. She took a cautious breath, and continued, "But I liked pressing flowers because I could slide them under your door."

Silence. Anna waited, eyes on Elsa. There were two ways to react to this: smile and share childhood stories or bolt.

Elsa was never one for predictability. She looked down at the letters, carefully being arranged just so she would have something to do. She kept arranging them, looking thoroughly focused on her task.

"I gave you lots of flowers."

Elsa remembered. She would sit by the door watching the flowers slide under one by one, each accompanied by a story of how it was found and pressed, and what wild adventure it represented. She remembered hearing a thump from the other side of the door, and a muffled voice saying, "I'm hugging you now."

And she remembered the day she sprang back, because no one could touch her anymore, and as irrational as it was she didn't want Anna's door hugs to cause her to freeze again.

"Elsa?"

By the time Elsa looked up again, snapping back to reality, Anna was standing on front of her, looking worried.

"You okay?"

The answer stuck in her throat, because Elsa wasn't, she really, _really_ wasn't, but she couldn't tell Anna that, because Anna was so hoping that Elsa was better, and Elsa had caused her enough pain and she didn't want to do it again. She swallowed, thinking, planning, trying to find an answer that would be both truthful and sufficiently deceitful.

"I know you're not."

Elsa sighed, half in defeat. "Anna, I'm sorry-"

"Don't be sorry. You know it's okay. It's okay to feel whatever you feel. Don't apologize for it. Just . . . tell me what's wrong?"

She couldn't say everything. It couldn't be everything any more. They had fixed everything, so she had to find another explanation, one that carried less weight. One that made it sound as though she was recovering, as though depression was a thing of the past, but she couldn't think of anything because it was still with her.

There was a black voice sitting behind her, whispering doubts into her ear at odd times. Even now, while Anna waited patiently for an answer, and Elsa stared at her, the voice behind her said softly, _there's still something wrong with you. You're not cured. You will never be cured._

"It's . . . it's just . . . I . . ." She couldn't explain it; there were no words for what she felt. Because it was nothingness.

"Do you want to take a break?" Anna asked. "I could use a snack." They both knew it was supposed to make Elsa feel better, to give her a way out of this situation without making it seem like she was running.

The bitter voice hissed, _your baby sister has to save you from everything._

"Come on," Anna said softly, because Elsa still hadn't answered and was sitting rooted to her chair. She took one of Elsa's cold hands, tugged gently. "Let's go."

Elsa let herself be dragged from the chair, she followed Anna blindly as they left the study. She barely acknowledged the walk to the kitchens. It was only when she was sitting down and Anna plonked a bowl full of chocolate pieces in front of her that she suddenly remembered she was awake and actually needed to function.

Anna munched, and watched her sister, because sometimes Elsa would talk unprompted.

But the silence stretched on, and Anna sighed. "Tell me what upset you. Was it the flowers?"

Elsa shook her head. The chocolate was in front of her; but the smell made her stomach tighten. She didn't want any.

"Is it just because it's hard? It's hard looking through their things. They kept so much from our childhood. And . . . that's not always a time we want to remember."

Elsa nodded. "I remember it all. I argued with Papa. I screamed at Mama. I shut you out. I failed at everything."

"But now?" Anna prompted, because this was usually the part where she would remind Elsa of the good things, the things she was doing well.

"Now I'm the Queen of Arendelle, and I'm doing fine, and I'm doing better each day." Elsa sounded mechanical, as though the words were just a guise, and not her true thoughts. "And Papa is proud of me and Mama loves me, and I have you."

The chocolate was still bothering her. She felt slightly sick.

"Yeah." Anna was still munching away, not oblivious to Elsa's sudden chocolate embargo but choosing not to mention it for now. "And?"

"And it's okay to feel upset, because that's what I feel, and I mustn't conceal it." The words rolled easily off her tongue, rehearsed often and practiced until they sounded natural. The voice growled, _you're lying._

"We can continue another day, if you'd like," Anna said.

"No." She needed to get this done. If it hung over her head any longer she didn't know what would happen. She needed to put it behind her.

"Do you want some chocolate? You haven't eaten anything today. That I know of. I was asleep when you were eating breakfast. You did eat breakfast, right?"

Elsa had stared at breakfast, waiting for the urge to eat to appear. It never did.

"There's only about three shelves left in the study," Anna said, standing up again. "We should get back."

She had to temper her excitement, because for her, reliving her childhood had been amazing. She loved discovering what her parents had kept. She loved finding her thoughts scribbled down. She loved the memories that came back.

Elsa did not. She was finding this to be a nightmare, and she knew she couldn't wake up from it. This was reminder after reminder of the steady decline in health that had defined her childhood. When Anna showed a drawing of Olaf, all Elsa could remember was a little girl lying frozen on the ballroom floor.

When Anna opened her journal to her tenth birthday, all Elsa could remember was the day she asked her parents to please, never touch her again.

When Anna wiped the dust off 'Hansel and Gretel', Elsa just remembered sitting alone in her room, listening to Anna read the book aloud outside her door.

Each unearthed memory brought with it a jab of pain, and Elsa thought she should consider Anna's offer to postpone the torture. But, then again, Elsa had never really been afraid of inflicting pain on herself.

She stood up as well, and followed Anna back to the study.

* * *

><p>"Did you know Papa has all the books on these shelves filed alphabetically?" Anna sounded astonished. "Who does that?"<p>

"It's more efficient," Elsa murmured, her attention mostly on her work. Whilst Anna was sorting cheerily through non-work related papers, Elsa was pointedly going through her father's old work documents, because while they were mundane they were not painful. "Saves time."

"Is the library like this too?" Anna asked. At Elsa nod, her jaw dropped. "Who on earth had the time to do that?"

Elsa coloured slightly. "I did most of it."

"That was your fun family project with Papa? Alphabetizing the library?" Anna snorted. "Really, Elsa?"

Elsa managed a smile, "It was nice one-on-one time. It helped calm me down."

"Wow, you really need a hobby." Anna decided. She shook her head, and turned back to the books. "Most of these are meant to be here, so I think we're almost done."

And not a moment too soon. Elsa knew the study well – she spent most of her time in it, after all – but this was the first time she had looked through anything that was not directly related to work. She had already taken a drawing of Anna's from the messy pile on the floor to keep on her desk, next to the picture she had of a young reindeer calf.

Anna hadn't noticed the stolen drawing yet. She stood back from the book shelf, hands on her hips, and announced loudly, "Yep, this room is sorted."

Elsa cast a doubtful eye at the piles of papers and books on the floor. It wasn't exactly what she would call 'sorted'.

"We can put all this stuff away again later," Anna said. "So, next room, huh?"

At that, Elsa felt a knot of anxiety in her stomach. The next room was their parents' room. She wasn't sure if she could manage that on the same day as going through her father's study. She had only looked in her parents room once before since their death, and had found a box of her mother's letters to her sister.

She wasn't sure what else was in there, and she didn't know if she was ready to face it.

There was a scrambling sound from outside the study, then Bae came barrelling inside, making distressed noises. He went straight for Anna, bleating, and pushed determinedly at her legs.

"Hey, what's up?" Anna knelt down to pick him up.

The white calf bleated again, ears flicking, and pressed his nose against Anna's neck.

Anna gave Elsa a look. "You're upset."

Sometimes Elsa hated that calf. "I'm fine."

"Don't lie to me; you really don't want to go through their room."

"I'm not sure I'm ready," Elsa said, because she had to say something.

"We'll never be ready," Anna said. Now that her attention was on Elsa, Bae settled down and became quiet in her arms. "It's something we just have to face, whether we want to or not."

Elsa did not look reassured. "Will you . . . will you close Bae out when we're going through their things? Please?"

Anna lowered the calf to the floor. She was thinking hard. "Okay. But . . . if I do that, you have to promise me that you'll tell me when we have to stop. Don't make yourself sick again. You never stop when you're supposed to; you always wait until things are out of control."

Anna might be well versed in the signs that Elsa wasn't well, but that didn't mean that Elsa wasn't an expert at hiding what she was feeling. After all, she had had a lot of time to practice. While Elsa had been talking more, and often bringing thoughts and fears and problems to her sister, she also kept some things to herself, feeling as though she was dropping too much on Anna at once.

That, and Elsa lived under the stubborn belief that she could handle things. She was always, _always_ pushing herself to do more, to do better, to _be_ better, but she had no idea where her limits were. Based on Bae's behaviour, though, Anna suspected the limit might be close.

"Will you promise me that?" Anna insisted, because Elsa didn't answer unless pushed.

Elsa nodded. "Yes."

"Good." It was a relief, because Elsa might not face things, but she clung even more stubbornly to promises than she did to her personal out-dated mantra. If Elsa gave her word to do something, it would be done.

Before they could continue, however, there was a knock at the door and Kai stuck his head in. "Queen Elsa, something has come up. Can you please come to the conference room immediately?"

"What is it, Kai?" Elsa sounded tired, she couldn't help it. Today had been a strain, yesterday had been a strain, and she was caught in a state of semi-wakefulness due to her restless night. She wasn't sure how effective she would be as a ruler.

"It's about . . ." Kai hesitated. He tried again. "It's about you, actually. The council wants to talk about you."

"Is it that prick who keeps giving you a hard time?" Anna asked Elsa, eyes blazing. "I'll show him-"

"I can handle this, Anna." Elsa spoke quietly. She rose from her seat.

Anna glowered. "Do you need me to come with you?"

"No, it's okay. I won't be long."

Anna did not look pleased. But a glance at the snoozing white reindeer calf told her that Elsa was not worried, and there was no reason for panic. Anna plonked onto the floor, sending papers flying. "Fine. I'll be here. Bae and I are going to tidy up."

Elsa sent her a grateful smile, relieved at the ease with which it came. There were days, more often than she liked to admit, where smiling was difficult. But not today.

That little victory lifted her spirits as she followed Kai to the conference room.

The lifted spirits were very short lived, however, as she sat down and asked the council what had prompted an unscheduled meeting.

The councilman who answered was not Elsa's favourite – Anna described him as a bull-headed sexist pig – but even she was unprepared for his opening comment.

"There's been some dispute about whether or not you're fit to rule Arendelle."

"Excuse me?" Elsa was flabbergasted. So far she had been nothing short of perfect (if one ignored the incident of winter in summer, but, as far as she knew, everyone had been quite understanding about it).

"You know," he sneered. "Because you're ill. Do we really want our country in the hands of someone who is depressed?"

* * *

><p>It took only a second of shock before Elsa's trademark expression of aloofness slid into place, a well-practiced mask hiding everything she was feeling. And, oh, she was feeling a lot. There was hot, burning shame, and equally hot rage, and solid, cold despair and the writhing anxiety.<p>

She cleared her throat softly. "Could you explain?"

"Well," he was unafraid of facing her, of being the one in the limelight. He was confident, haughty, condescending. "It's a _mental_ illness," he spat the words, each syllable dripping contempt. "Do you think your father would want his country under the control of someone who is mentally ill?"

There was a snapping sound, a vase in the room shattered into a thousand pieces and the water inside it fell to the ground in a single, solid lump. Elsa had not moved. She kept her head high, despite the whirling thoughts in her head.

_Oh, god, he's right, he's right, I can't do this, I shouldn't be doing this. There is something wrong with me, and everyone knows . . . everyone knows . . ._

_Conceal it, don't-_ The thought kept coming back, it had been such an integral part of her for so long that she couldn't help it. It took a conscious effort to shut it out. She organized her racing thoughts, she folded her hands together on the table, she swallowed hard and stayed in control. "First of all, my condition is not public knowledge. It is only the council and a select few members of staff who are even aware of it."

"So you're deceiving your subjects?"

Luckily, looks could not kill, because had they been able to Elsa would be dealing with a spontaneous homicide on top of everything else. She answered slowly and deliberately, "No. I am not."

"It seems like you are. You're always hiding something. First, it was your sorcery-"

"I am not a sorcerer," Elsa said stiffly.

"For all we know, that's part of the problem. You might be predisposed to mental illness because of this witchcraft."

"First of all," Elsa snapped back, "you are speaking out of line. I am your queen, and you will address me with the respect that I deserve. Secondly, my magic does not define who I am. Thirdly, I am not mentally ill. I have depression, and I am managing it, and if you have observed any indications that I am not fit to rule you will bring them to me in private."

_You're not managing_, the black voice whispered, pricking at the back of her head. _You're barely holding it together now. You have no control; the control you portray to the world is an illusion._

She couldn't ignore the voice, but she could talk over it. "Arendelle is flourishing under my rule, and I am doing my best whenever possible. I know there's something wrong me, and I do not allow it to affect this country in a negative way. When you have some evidence to back up your accusations, we will talk again. Until then, I would appreciate it if you kept your _opinion_ of my mental status to yourself."

The councilman did not look at all contrite. He sneered at her. "Certainly, your Majesty."

Elsa levelled a glare at him, but she didn't rise to his comment. After a moment of tense, frigid silence, she took another deep breath. "You are all dismissed. Please don't waste my time like this again."

After the council left, Elsa remained in her chair staring at the table, and feeling the room around her slowly growing colder. And, as always, when she was alone she filled the silence with dark thoughts that just kept rearing up.

_Unfit to rule. Mentally ill. Always hiding something._

She suddenly noticed her breathing had changed – it was shorter, panicked, shallow, and now was really not the time for a panic attack. It was just a meeting, just the opinion of one obnoxious man. But her own over reaction only spurred the panic onwards, because she knew that she shouldn't get this worked up, but she _was_ getting worked up, and that just proved she was out of control and not quite _right_-

"Elsa." Anna opened the door to the conference room and peered inside. "Hey. You okay?"

She gulped, and shook her head, because she couldn't talk right now when her breath was still wheezing and her chest was tight. Getting in enough air was difficult; she wasn't going to waste it on idle chatter.

"Are you sure? 'Cause I can see myself breathing, so it must be pretty cold." Anna came inside. "Anyway, I know you're not fine. Why do you think I'm here?"

Elsa looked up, and there was Anna with a soft smile of encouragement and her damn emotional barometer standing at her feet wagging its tail. Of course, Bae would have given her away. She was shaking now, hands visibly trembling in front of her, and she clasped them together tighter to try and stop them from moving.

Anna came to sit next to her, and Bae jumped up onto her lap. He rested his chin on the table top, ice blue eyes on Elsa. "What's wrong?"

"These things shouldn't bother me." Finally, she had the breath to spare. "It's just talk. It shouldn't bother me. I'm over reacting."

"No, you're not," Anna said firmly. "Remember? It's okay to feel."

"This can't happen every time I have a meeting." Her voice was still shaking. She lowered it, speaking mostly to herself, "Get it together."

"We can do something else for the rest of the day. We don't need to start on Mama and Papa's room."

"Yes, we do."

There was a short silence, while Elsa calmed down and Anna watched her quizzically.

Anna spoke, "Are you making yourself do this as punishment for freaking out about the council meeting? Because I know you do that. I know you punish yourself, and since you can't actually hurt yourself, you promised me you wouldn't do that anymore, I guess you've gotta find other ways to do it."

Elsa didn't answer. And no answer usually meant yes.

"We can carry on tomorrow."

"We're going to carry on right now," Elsa said firmly, standing up. "No more running. No more hiding."

Usually, Anna would be pleased with Elsa's new mind-set. But she was starting to feel uneasy. Because Elsa didn't do things in half measures, and this new determination to no longer hide, or run, or conceal, meant that sometimes Anna got the feeling Elsa was pushing herself too far, too hard, too fast.

It seemed only a matter of time before she broke.


	3. Chapter 3 - Hidden Letters

Chapter 3 – Hidden Letters

She woke with her heart pounding, so loudly that she was certain everyone would hear it, and a moment of terrifying fear of being trapped, before she realised it was just the blankets twisted around her from her restless tossing.

Her heart was still going at a dizzying speed. She clenched both hands, and felt the slight pull of scarred skin across one wrist. She only ever felt it when she was stressed.

Elsa stared at the two little white scars on that arm, the fingers of the other hand found their way to marked skin and her nails pressed onto the scars. Sometimes she wondered what would happen if she actually tried to scratch through delicate skin. Sometimes she really wanted to try it.

But for now, she just gripped at her arm, her nails leaving crescent shaped indents, and in a moment she was up on her feet and moving swiftly to the door.

She didn't want Anna to get up, if she could help it. Anna was so energetic during the day, so full of life and light, that she needed the darkness of night to recover. She needed her sleep. Elsa did not, and so she hurried to get to Anna's room before Bae woke her.

The door was never locked, and Elsa peered into the dark room. It looked like Anna was still asleep; Elsa could make out a little white shape struggling to jump onto Anna's bed.

"Bae," she said softly. "It's okay. You don't need to wake her."

The calf snorted, but he settled down again and came trotting to Elsa. She bent down to rub his head softly, in the way she knew Anna did, and he squeaked happily. Elsa was then undecided. She didn't know if she should stay, or go.

Bae nudged into her hand, and for no reason at all Elsa felt tears welling in her eyes again. This was stupid; she had nothing to be sad about. She hated always feeling this way, and she kept telling herself that she was over reacting, that there was no reason to break down and cry.

No wonder people questioned her.

She was supposed to be strong for Arendelle, she was meant to be solid and icy. But, oh, ice could break so easily. Elsa sank to her knees, putting her arms around Bae and drawing him close. His cool body didn't bother her, the silent tears made bright shining lines on his back.

She kept her jaw clenched shut, not wanting to wake Anna for something as silly as this. Anna needed to sleep; she couldn't have Elsa waking her up every single night for absolutely no reason.

_Get it together. I can handle this. I can handle this._

One sob escaped her, Bae answered with a questioning mewl, and Elsa dragged the calf into the hall way and closed Anna's door before she woke.

"Oh, Bae," she continued crying into him. "What am I going to do? I'm so tired of being trapped. I'm trying, I really am, but it feels like I'm going nowhere. Look at me, I can't even _sleep_!"

The reindeer made an agreeable noise. He nuzzled her neck, cooing slightly.

"I'm trying," Elsa repeated softly. "But it's so hard." She still felt like she was playing a part. She felt cheated; she wasn't living a life she wanted. She didn't even feel like she belonged in his life.

Where was her place?

It should be here. In Arendelle. With Anna. But it felt as though this was a terrible role she was trapped inside against her will. Life shouldn't be this hard. She shouldn't feel this awful every day.

Why did it still feel like the only way out of this agonizing, never ending cycle was death?

* * *

><p>She skipped breakfast. She told Anna that she ate, of course, because if she didn't it would lead to more questions and she didn't want to deal with that. She would eat when she felt hungry.<p>

She didn't acknowledge the fact that it had been one and a half days now.

"Found two more boxes," Anna announced when Elsa came into their parents' room. "Like the one the letters were in. I'm opening this one." She kept a protective hold around one of them, and nudged the other towards Elsa.

She had selected to sit on the bed, cross legged, and carefully opened the box with something akin to awe. "What do think is in here?"

Elsa shrugged, and took the other box with her to the window. Sitting there had always been her favourite spot, and she felt as though she needed some space between her and Anna. She took a moment to run her hand over the lid of the box. It was ornately carved wood, stained dark, and there were a few well-worn marks on the side where, Elsa assumed, her mother had always placed her fingers to open the box.

Anna was chattering, but Elsa wasn't hearing her. She had a feeling that whatever was in this box would probably not do much to lift her spirits. She fitted her fingers into the marks on the wood, and she felt a little flicker of warmth when they fitted into the spaces perfectly. Cautiously, she lifted the lid off the box, and set it aside next to her.

There were more letters inside; Elsa recognised her mother's hand writing. She touched her fingers gently against the top letter, wondering why these ones were kept separately to the others.

"Elsa!" Anna had called at least three times.

Elsa finally looked up. "What?"

Anna waved a handful of papers, grinning. "Guess what these are!"

"Looks like more letters."

"Yeah, but they're not from Mama. They're from Papa, and they are written to her. These are the letter he wrote her when they were still dating, oh my gosh!"

Elsa was starting to think her parents might have been closet hoarders; they certainly kept a lot of things from their past. Elsa wondered idly if she would also keep so many keepsakes if she ever found someone to date, or had children.

Then she thought about the drawing sitting on her desk awaiting a frame, and she assumed she would. Clinging onto the past was a sick sort of comfort to her.

"Listen to this," Anna said. She cleared her throat theatrically. "'Tonight we'll go to the waterfalls behind the castle. I have made certain to find all your favourite foods, and the sky will be awake too. We'll lie side by side with the sky shining above us and when darkness falls we'll take our'-"

"That's enough, Anna," Elsa interrupted. "Put those back."

"I'm going to read them all," Anna said. "Just imagine what's written here."

"Probably things you don't want to know." Elsa muttered.

"What's in your box?"

"Oh." Elsa turned her attention back to her lap. "More letters. I haven't read through them yet, so I don't know why they're separate to the others-"

"Read one," Anna demanded. "There must be something special about these ones."

They had radically different approaches to this: Anna was bubbling with excitement, keen to discover more, thrilled to bits that she was doing this with Elsa. More letters? What could be better? It would be more insight into her parents, a way to bring them closer, to remember them, to learn more about them and how they saw the world.

Elsa just wanted to close everything up and pretend it didn't exist. She was terrified of what might lie in these letters – what if it was more of her childhood that she wanted to ignore? What if it uncovered more secrets she wished Anna didn't know?

Anna was still looking at her expectantly, bright eyed and eager.

Elsa sighed. There was no way around this. She turned the top letter a little more towards the light. "It looks like more letters to her sister."

She peeled the top page back. "And the replies. I wonder why these letters are with their replies? Have we found answers to any of the other letters?"

"Not yet. So, what's that one about? Why's it so special?"

Elsa skimmed over it. "It's just more . . . oh." She read further. "These are . . ." A little bit more. And then she couldn't take any more. She fumbled for the lid of the box, and closed the letters away.

"Hey, what's wrong? What are they about?" Anna asked, sitting up a bit straighter.

"Nothing we need to revisit," Elsa said. She held the box close to her chest, so no one else could get it. "Please, it's not something I want to go through again."

"Okay." Anna said. She couldn't hide her disappointment, but she knew that some things should not be pushed. "But . . . No more closed doors, remember?"

"This is before the open doors," Elsa said. "And I'd like to keep it that way."

"How bad could it be?" Anna asked.

"Worse than you're thinking. Please, Anna," Elsa said, seeing her sister's crestfallen face. "There are some things about me I don't want you to know."

"But why?" She wasn't trying to pry. She wasn't trying to be annoying and curious. She just needed to understand what made Elsa tick.

"Anna." The word was softly spoken, but still forceful. It was a warning. "We are not discussing this any further."

Tense silence lay between them, while Elsa tried to hide her obvious discomfort behind a mask of control, and Anna frowned because things were not meant to be this way anymore. And it was then that Anna felt a sudden twinge of something – a passing notion that quickly took shape into a definite thought.

There was only one thing Elsa refused to talk about.

Her first attempt at suicide.

"How can I help you if you won't tell me what's bothering you?" Anna asked.

"You're already helping me. You're helping me every day. But this . . . I just want to put it behind me." Elsa held the box, sending the very clear message that _this is mine_, and Anna was not allowed to touch.

Anna stayed silent for a moment, then decided changing the subject would be a good idea. She would, one day, coax that story from her sister. But at the moment it was the one and only closed door between them, and Elsa was pushing against it stubbornly from the other side, and there was no way for Anna to open it.

She shrugged. "Okay. It's fine." She turned back to the box on front of her. "I'll read these first, then you can, okay?"

"Fine."

They worked in silence after that. Elsa kept the box placed protectively behind her, and carefully looked through the few books her parents had kept in their room. They were mostly story books – some were even from when she and Anna were much younger, but there were also a few more complex books. No doubt, this was what her father pored over at night.

Elsa often did the same.

The hours passed, and finally Anna looked up from where she was surrounded by clothing – most of it would be packed away but there were a few of her mother's dresses she wanted to keep – and said cautiously, "Do you want to stop for lunch?"

Elsa shook her head. "No, I can keep going. You can go and eat, if you want."

Anna looked suspicious. "Yeah, but when are you going to eat?"

"I'll have something later," Elsa said idly, keeping her eyes on the books. "Don't worry."

"I will worry." Anna came to sit next to Elsa under the window. She waited until Elsa was looking at her before she spoke again. "When last did you eat something?"

Elsa had to think about that. She hesitated, then answered uncertainly. "I had lunch."

"When did you have lunch?"

What day was it today? They had been melting together in a never ending cycle of unease. She didn't need to keep track of time; Kai made sure she was wherever she needed to be. "Yesterday?" she guessed.

Anna's voice was flat. "You haven't eaten all day."

"I haven't needed to."

"You need to eat every day."

History would suggest otherwise. Elsa just shrugged. "I haven't been hungry. It's not a big deal."

"It's a big deal now. It wouldn't be a big deal if this was just a normal day. But it's not, it's a day when we're going through Mama and Papa's things, and that's a hard day for us."

"I'm just not hungry, okay? There's nothing else going on."

Anna didn't say anything. She tried not to look disapproving, but sometimes she felt as though Elsa wasn't even trying. Sometimes it seemed as though Anna was more invested in Elsa's health than Elsa was.

There was an argument bubbling up between them. So far, it hadn't yet reached boiling point but it seemed like it was only a matter of time before one of them snapped at the other. Anna stood up. "I'm going to get lunch."

"Okay."

"Then I'm going out with Kristoff for the afternoon."

"Okay." Elsa kept her eyes down, because she knew Anna wasn't happy with her. She hated making Anna feel this way – uncontrolled, unable to help. She wanted to change, but for some reason her mind wouldn't let her.

She did well for a while, but now she felt like she was back in the same place.

* * *

><p>Elsa finished going through her parents' room that evening. It was easier to do it alone, without Anna. And when she was by herself, Elsa wasn't ashamed of the tears that dripped down her face unchecked all afternoon. But by the end of it, she was much more relaxed than she had been when she started.<p>

She felt like she achieved something, overcome something. There was still a hole in the pit of her belly, but it was just empty and not aching like it did almost every day. She carried the box of forbidden letters back to her room, so she could make certain no one else would ever see it.

Then she sat under the window in the moonlight, to just think and try to relax, with the box of letters in her lap. The sky was awake, and that made the ice inside her twist slightly, because it brought back memories of magic, and those set her on edge whether they were bad memories or not.

And like a never ending cycle, the thoughts of doubt returned, every single mistake she had ever made reared up, undulating gently around her head like the ribbons of colour in the sky.

_Deceiving your subjects. You are ill. You're never going to be better. You cannot be cured._

These thoughts wouldn't go away. Elsa wanted them to – she fought back against her old notions constantly. The scars on her arm would itch and scream, and she would clench her jaw and do something else to take her mind off them. She tried to ignore them.

Sometimes she would be sitting still and the urge would appear to just form another knife of ice and plunge it _anywhere_, and her hands would shake from the effort of not doing that . . . because she didn't _want_ to.

But the thoughts were so conflicting, the voice at the back of her head was chanting, _you're ill. You're in a dead end. You're going nowhere._

And she would stubbornly reply, _I'm doing better. I _want_ to be better. I want to have what Anna has – hope and light._

_Life is so painful. Remember when the blood was pouring? It was so warm and comforting. It was a wonderful release. It was soothing. It was like living in a dream._

_No. That's not right. I've got to be here – Arendelle is mine and I have to hold it together. I want to change, I want to be happy. I just don't know how. I want to leave these thoughts behind._

_They'll never leave. They're your thoughts._

_Then I can change them._

The ice shifted under her skin, it pressed from the inside, ever present and demanding attention. Elsa hugged the box closer to her chest, blocking it away from the world. She wanted to hide it away forever, somewhere in the dark, so no one could find it and it could rest safely. It needed to be hidden away.

It had things in it that the world should never know – that Anna should never know.

* * *

><p>The morning brought warmth and sunshine, without a cloud to be seen. It was the sort of day that made Anna want to run around outside and just be.<p>

She awoke to something cold pressing into her cheek, and when she pried one eye open she saw a white nose and one dark blue eye watching her. The calf nuzzled her again, cold but cheerful, and Anna smiled.

"Morning, Bae."

He licked her, delighted to finally have company after a long night of loneliness.

"You're in a good mood," Anna murmured. "Five more minutes."

Bae snuggled against her; Anna could feel his whole body moving with the wagging of his tail. Her smile widened, she worked a hand free from under her body to lay it flat against his side. He was smooth and cool, with a faint tracing of snowflakes all over his body, and the tips of tiny blue antlers poking from his head.

But Anna's relaxing couldn't last for long. She felt the sun warming her hand, streaming in from the window, and she knew she would have to move Bae out of the light before he melted.

"Come on, little guy," Anna sat up, rubbing her eyes with her other hand. "We need to get you out of the sun."

The fact that the calf was so relaxed meant that Elsa obviously was, too. And wasn't that a huge relief, because Anna had felt sure that, following the discovery of the foreboding box of letters, her night would be interrupted by a calf and a queen. But there had been no disturbance at all, and that little fact warmed Anna's heart a tiny bit more.

It seemed an odd victory – celebrating Elsa staying calm throughout the night, following what was a stressful day. There had been a time where Anna had been woken every night, directly after Bae had been created. But, gradually, Elsa's mind had settled and healed, and last night had indeed been a victory.

Anna managed to drag herself out of bed; she also had duties to attend to. She and Elsa had split a large amount of the work Elsa tackled on a daily basis, which Elsa liked to get out of the way largely in the morning, while Anna often put off work until after lunch. Anna found a quick breakfast, then trotted to Elsa's study.

The sun was streaming in there too, and Anna stood happily in a patch of warmth, grinning dumbly. "Good morning."

"Morning," Elsa returned with an easy smile, looking up from her desk.

"Today feels like it's going to be a good day," Anna said. "What do you have planned?"

"I was going to finish tidying up in Mama and Papa's room, once I finished my work." Elsa answered casually. She was smiling as she read the paper on her desk.

"What's that?" Anna asked, wondering what had put Elsa in such a good mood. Not that she was complaining, but it might be helpful to know, in case it was something she could reuse at a later stage. Anything that made Elsa happy was worth paying attention to.

"It's the lists you gave me," Elsa said, and finally the soft smile on her face was reaching her eyes and it looked sincere.

"You still look at those?" It had been weeks since Anna had gone to dozens of random people and asked them for one word to describe Elsa. The results had surprised both sisters, but also pleased them.

"Quite often, actually," Elsa admitted. "They make me feel better. Like I'm getting some things right."

"You're getting a lot of things right."

"Sometimes." Elsa was cautious about the future, she had lived with her own demons long enough to know that they frequently came back.

They just looked at each other, one of those rare moments when the world wasn't crumbling around them and they could just appreciate the other. Anna moved to sit on a vacant chair, staying in the warm morning sunlight. This was the most comfortable silence they had shared in months. Anna felt her eyes drifting closed again, and soon there was nothing but the sound of the occasional paper moving.

This was what mornings should always be like – dozy and warm with your sister nearby.

"Anna?"

"Hm?" Anna barely managed a response.

"Are you . . . happy?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"It's not that."

Anna hadn't opened her eyes, so she was acutely aware of Elsa's tentative tone of voice.

"I mean, happy with life. With where it's going. With what your role is. Are you happy?"

"Yeah. I'm happy. I've got you, and you're always here when I need you. I've got Kristoff, and I can go anywhere I want. I'm so lucky – think of all the opportunities I have. And I don't have so much responsibility that I can't goof off every now and again and have fun. What more could I want?" She smiled warmly. "I'm very happy with my life."

The next silence was a bit less comfortable.

Elsa asked even more hesitantly, "Is it easy? Being happy, I mean?"

"Uh . . ." Anna wasn't quite sure how to answer. "I guess. I don't really think about it. I'm just happy. There's no reason not to be. Right?"

_No reason not to be._ Elsa shrank slightly in her seat. _So then what's wrong with me? Why is being happy so easy for everyone else? Maybe . . . maybe my magic is the problem. Maybe that's what makes me sad all the time._

The bitter black voice hissed at the back of her mind, _or it's because you just can't be happy. You don't know how, because there's something wrong with you. There's something so wrong with you that you can't even do normal things like sleep and eat_.

She sent an uneasy look at her snoozing sister. The princess was blissfully unaware of Elsa's internal debate about her own sanity. "Anna?"

"Hm?"

"Do you ever wish we led a different life?" _One without magic. One without people judging us._

"Once or twice I thought about it. But we've got a really great thing going here. Especially now, with you and me together again. What could be better than that?"

Somewhere away from people. Somewhere away from public scrutiny. Somewhere where her magic didn't matter. Somewhere . . . else . . . _Maybe I'm unhappy because I'm trapped here. I've always been trapped here. The gates might be open, but I'm not free to go through them._


	4. Chapter 4 - Believe in Something

Chapter 4 – You Have to Believe in Something

**Okay, so things start getting a little heavier in the next few chapters (for a change). I've been struggling, and it's showing, but I'm on holiday soon and I'll have some time to myself to just write and draw and relax. So bear with me while all this angst and feels builds; there will always be a happy ending.**

**SpicedGold**

No eight-year-old should face this sort of revelation: _I'm dangerous_.

When there was a pull of magic now, she closed her hand in a fist, trying to lock it inside. Everything needed to be locked inside.

She could see the gates from the library, and now they were shut tightly. Like everything had to be.

"We're trapped in here," she told her mother, leaning her elbows on the windowsill and her forehead on the glass. "We've been closed into a cage."

"The gates will open again," Idun promised.

"But what if I hurt someone? I'm dangerous. Papa said so."

"You're not dangerous, darling." Idun came to stand behind her daughter.

"I hurt Anna. That's the worst kind of hurt in the world." Elsa's lower lip quivered. The wood under her arms changed colour. "I hurt Anna," she repeated, because this was the most terrible sin a person could commit, and she needed her mother to see the magnitude of this incident.

"Anna's okay now," the Queen placated. "She's not hurt anymore."

"But I am." Elsa let herself be gathered up and carried to a chair. She snuggled into her mother. "I still hurt."

"I'll kiss it better for you."

"My heart hurts. You can't kiss my heart better."

"Love can kiss a heart better," Idun explained, pressing a gentle kiss to Elsa's forehead.

Elsa waited, hoping, but the agony in her chest did not recede. She closed both hands into angry fists. "It still hurts. It's not working." She came to the only conclusion a child could come to. "My heart must be broken."

"It's not, darling. It'll get better."

"Something's broken," Elsa insisted, desperately, because something had changed within her. She felt different. Suddenly the world seemed a scarier place. The sun wasn't as bright. The flowers weren't as colourful. And her heart hurt, so _badly_, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. "It hurts."

"Give it time. Everything heals with time."

"My heart is broken, and no one can kiss it better. Because it's inside me, and no one can get inside me to fix it." She squeezed her eyes shut.

The thought first crossed her mind that night – if the pain was inside her, maybe, just maybe, it would be possible to cut it out?

* * *

><p>"You've been thinking those sorts of things since you were <em>eight<em>?" Anna's mind was boggled. She wished she could see Elsa's reaction, but the sky was asleep and the night was inky black.

"I didn't know what to do." There were no tears tonight. Elsa had woken with her fingers digging into the scars on her arm, and after lying still had not been able to fall asleep again. She was not upset, but the thoughts that were following her were not pleasant. She sounded confused, as though her own reminiscing made no sense.

"No wonder you're so messed up!" Sometimes Anna spoke without thinking.

Elsa was mildly offended. "I'm alright. I'm getting better."

There was a faint flash of white in the darkness, because Anna was grinning wildly. She was delighted that Elsa hadn't agreed with her – she even sounded defensive. That was progress. "I know you are. But this is why you keep hanging onto these thoughts. You're so used to them being there. It's like the gloves. You wanted them; even though you knew they were bad. But they had just become a part of your life and you didn't want to let that go."

"I'm not following . . . are you getting to a point?"

"Yes! You got rid of the gloves, and you were happier. So we need to get rid of these thoughts. That's the problem. You're carrying too much baggage."

Elsa didn't think much of Anna's psychoanalysis, but she had to agree. The only problem was she had no idea how to get rid of the thoughts. They followed her everywhere; they wound their way into her mind. "Anna, I can't just stop thinking. This is part of who I am-"

"It's part of who you _were_," Anna corrected. "There's a new you, now. We've got to get your head in the right space, that's all."

"And just how are you going to do that?"

Anna thought for a moment. "Maybe you need a break."

"A what?"

"A holiday. A break. Something to take your mind off it all. Think about it, you were happy when you were running around on the mountain building massive ice castles, right?"

"It was a palace," Elsa corrected tersely.

"Because you were away from everything." Anna continued unaffected. "I know you're doing better, and you think you're doing better, but, really, getting away from it all would help. You need a holiday, to clear your head."

"Not now."

"But why not?"

"There's so much going on right now. And I can't take time off now, not with the council breathing down my neck about being an unfit ruler. If I take a holiday now it'll make it look like I'm not coping."

Anna didn't mention the elephant in the room at that last sentence.

"I can't stop now; I've just got to get everything sorted again. I have to keep working."

"You do realise you're sacrificing your own sanity here? Is Arendelle really more important than your mental health?" She had spoken lightly, but Elsa's passionate response astonished her.

"_Yes_. Don't you see, I've _got_ to be better than Papa. I _have_ to do better; everyone is watching me and waiting for me to mess up. Do you hear what they say about me? I'm not going to fail at this too."

"You have to think about yourself occasionally."

"Later, after everything is better. I've got a whole country just waiting for me to slip up and I _will not_ let that happen. I'm going to be better than Papa." She was stubbornly holding it together, because too much depended on the front she could show the world.

Anna shifted slightly, not particularly happy with where this was going. Elsa might be determined, but her newfound determination to be better was starting to seem like a new version of 'conceal, don't feel'. "You're pushing yourself too hard."

"I have to. I've got a life time of mistakes, and now I'm finally able to start making them right. I _want_ to do better-"

"You keep saying that. But do you even believe yourself?" In the dark, Anna sounded hard, slightly angry.

"I believe . . ." Elsa paused, because what did she believe? She used to believe in magic. She used to believe in herself. She used to believe in perfection. Now?

_There's something wrong with you_, the black voice whispered. _And everyone can see it._

"I can do better," she said haltingly.

"That isn't what I asked," Anna said sharply. "I asked if you believe yourself."

"I . . ." She should be able to lie. She should be able to say yes, and everything would go back to the way it was. Then Anna would stop asking.

"When will you start believing?" Anna asked, the anger leaving as quickly as it arrived. "When will you see what the rest of the world sees?"

_I know what the world sees. And that's all I see too_. The image of a disgruntled council flashed through her head. Elsa snuggled a bit closer to Anna, closing her eyes, trying to block everything out.

"I believe in you," Anna murmured, closing her eyes as well, feeling sleep pulling her consciousness away. She knew Elsa was avoiding the question, she was avoiding a lot of things, but the fact that Elsa was initiating a cuddle was more important. Anna chose not to push.

Elsa's delayed reply was barely a whisper, only just able to be heard, and it sounded less like an answer and more like a terrible, painful realisation. "You believe in magic, too."

* * *

><p>Three days. She was waiting to feel hungry, but it just wasn't happening.<p>

_That's probably something else that's wrong with me,_ she thought dully. But this wasn't affecting her work, so she didn't spend much time dwelling on it. There were more important things to think about.

Like a council that thought she might be off her rocker.

"You're young, you're a woman, and they don't know you well," Kai said when Elsa had voiced her concerns. "They're going to try to undermine you."

He had been one of a handful of people who had known about her powers from the very beginning, and a steadfast friend whenever needed in the tumultuous years that followed.

Elsa trusted him implicitly. "Well, they're succeeding."

She had singled him out early in the morning, beckoning him into her study before he had even had breakfast. Kai sighed. "Elsa. They are going to give you a hard time. That's just how they are. Remember, they basically ran this country for three years, with your minimal involvement. You're not a queen to them, you're a usurper."

"How am I supposed to convince them otherwise?" Elsa asked. Perhaps if she had a plan in mind, she could feel a bit more at ease.

"You probably can't. Some of them were in the council when your father took over the throne. They didn't think much of him, either. People fear change."

"I've got to convince them that this is a change for the better," Elsa said, mostly to herself.

"I'm sure you will. Don't let them get to you. But," he added, and his sombre tone caught Elsa's attention. "I'm not sure they're the ones who really need convincing."

She felt the world around her tighten, close in on her. It was cloying and hot, the ice inside her prickled under her palms. "What?"

Kai gave her a knowing look. "I assume the only reason that a few comments from the council bothered you this much is because you agree with them. You doubt yourself."

"I do not."

"Elsa." He spoke gently. "You triple check everything. You obsess over tiny details. You look over Anna's work. You question yourself all the time. How are you going to convince the council that you're the best thing for Arendelle when you don't believe it yourself?"

"I'm fine," Elsa's voice faltered. "I'm good enough."

"Good enough? You'll never settle for good enough. I've watched you grow up, and you've always had a good eye for detail. You'll be a great queen, if you only let yourself go."

"The council doubted me first," she said, because she felt as though she had to say something in her defence.

"Did they?"

She couldn't answer that. Not because she didn't know the answer, but because she was not going to face the answer. She slumped heavily in her desk chair, eyes downcast. She stayed silent.

Kai sighed. "I'll leave you alone."

Elsa didn't acknowledge that, but when she heard the door close softly behind him, she looked up, her blue eyes dark with confusion and pain, because there had to be a way to overcome this – _everything_ – but she just didn't know how.

How do you change your mind? What do you do if your thoughts won't obey you? How do you believe in magic once again?

A few minutes later, Anna's head peered around the door. "Morning."

"Hi."

"Brought you some breakfast," Anna seemed pleased with herself. She closed the study door, and came forward to place a plate on the edge of Elsa's desk. "Apparently you didn't eat this morning before starting work."

"Thank you, Anna," Elsa said, offering a forced smile. There was a flicker of anger igniting in her, because yesterday smiling had been easy, and now it was a strain, and absolutely nothing had changed.

Elsa expected Anna to leave again, to allow Elsa to continue with her work, but to her mild surprise, Anna dragged a chair across the room and flopped into it, facing Elsa quizzically.

"Can I help you?" Elsa was bemused by this behaviour. Anna often did odd and peculiar things, and most of the time it lifted Elsa's spirits. The forced smile became a bit lighter, and so much easier to wear.

"I'm not leaving until you eat." Anna announced, crossing her arms over her chest and looking expectant.

Elsa's cheer evaporated. "What?"

"No one has seen you eat for two days. Probably close to three. And you keep avoiding the issue. I'm not leaving here until you've eaten breakfast."

Elsa stared. She couldn't say anything in her defence. Anna settled in her seat, looking set to stay for as long as it would take. Anna was prepared for a very long battle of wills.

Elsa looked away first, turning her attention back to her work. She kept her lower lip trapped between her teeth, struggled to keep her hands steady. Anna, more or less, sat still, one foot tapping on the floor because she did not have as much patience as Elsa and sitting still doing nothing was near impossible.

"You gave me the key to your room." Anna said after a long silence.

Elsa didn't look up.

"Because there are no secrets between us. No more locks, no more closed doors."

"I know."

"But you're not . . . you're not really open."

"I'm doing better."

"You're not!" Anna sprang to her feet. "Good _god_, Elsa, you're just saying that, over and over again. You can't sleep. You don't eat. You can't even smile some days. Are you even happy? Sometimes you say you are, but look at you now! You're beating yourself up over what that stupid councilman said, and it's not _worth_ it. It doesn't matter what he thinks, it only matters what _you_ think."

Elsa shrank back slightly from Anna's sudden onslaught. Their eyes locked, Elsa shook her head ever so slightly, and it felt like an admission of something.

Anna's jaw would have been on the floor if it wasn't going a mile a minute. "You _agree_ with him!" she said accusingly. "You think he's right, you still think there's something wrong with you-"

"There _is_ something wrong with me," Elsa said vehemently. "My life is perfect, and I'm the only person who can't see that."

"What?"

"I have everything, but all I feel is . . . is _trapped_ and _wrong_. I close my eyes at night and all I can see are the mistakes that I've made. I just want them to go away; I want to pretend most of my life has never happened, because I don't like it. I don't like myself."

"I don't like you much either, right now. But I still love you," Anna responded, just as brash and brazen as ever. "I don't understand why you keep doing this to yourself. You make yourself sick over the tiniest details, you _try_ to hurt yourself-"

"I don't _choose_ to feel this way," Elsa rose from her seat as well. "I'm not trying to think this way; I'm not trying to feel this way. It's who I am, and it really scares me because people don't really change. _This is me_; this is who I am stuck with for the rest of my life."

"You're just stuck because you won't let yourself get unstuck. You believe you're stuck, and you don't think that's ever going to change."

"People don't change," Elsa shouted.

"Yes, they do. The only reason you're stuck is because all that crap from your past is piled on top of you. You need to move on; you need to put it behind you. It's the past Elsa, it's not important."

"It's _me_! The past is who I am, it's all I have, because I'm nothing right now, and if I let that go I don't know who I'm meant to be, I don't know where I'm meant to be. I wish I could go back. To when it was me and Papa, learning and feeling like the whole world wasn't against me." She shouldn't have said that, and she realised it instantly.

Anna's expression dropped. "You mean before you got me back? Before – when every door was closed and there was no such thing as magic? Then?"

"No, I meant before these thoughts started. Before these feelings started."

Anna lunged toward the desk, and ripped the top drawer open. She grabbed at the papers there, knowing exactly what they were, and brandished them in front of Elsa's face. "Look at these, Elsa! Yesterday you believed them. Yesterday you read these words and it helped you. How many of them do you believe today?"

Elsa, disarmed by Anna's change in topic, kept stubbornly silent.

"These words haven't changed," Anna said, white hot anger staining her voice. "The lists never changed. _You_ did. You get to decide where your life goes."

"No, I don't." Elsa sounded dark, and it occurred to her that this conversation was heading into dangerous territory, and soon one of them would say something they would regret.

Anna ploughed on. "Yes you do. Is it because you're Queen? You think that's trapping you? Or is it because you won't work up the courage to make a decision that actually benefits you-"

"I don't get to decide where my life goes because you're stopping me." That surprised her; she hadn't meant to say it. The scars on her arm ached, the hurt in her heart flared.

Anna was rendered speechless for a few seconds. "What? How am I stopping you from anything?"

She should have kept her mouth shut. She should have apologized. She certainly shouldn't have continued. Elsa held up the scarred arm; Anna knew it well. Elsa kept her gaze on her sister. "You stopped me."

"I stopped you from killing yourself-"

"You stopped me from taking control," Elsa countered. "It was my decision, it was my life."

"You're angry at me for not letting you slit your own wrists? _Elsa_," Anna snapped, "Do you even hear yourself?"

The anger was giving way to weakness, Elsa could feel the dense despair forming in her stomach, she could feel the ice clawing at her and trying to break free. "I could finally use my magic just for me, Anna. Just for me, because I _wanted_ to."

"No!" Anna screamed. "Don't even think it! You promised me!"

"You trapped me!"

"This is why Papa wanted to lock you away in a dungeon! Not because you ever hurt anyone, but because all you want to do is hurt yourself. _You_ keep blaming yourself, _you_ keep punishing yourself and right now I want to lock you up too so I know you're safe. You're not thinking straight!"

"That's the point! It doesn't matter how hard I try, I cannot change who I am, and I am not fit to be a queen. This is not my life, Anna; this is just somewhere I was told to be. It's so hard because I'm not meant to be here!"

"Life's hard! Deal with it! And damn it, Elsa, don't you dare do anything stupid. You're a great queen, and everyone knows it."

Elsa shot her a glare. "No, they don't."

"Then show them."

"Everyone just sees a messed up little girl who can't even sleep through the night, and who gets upset over the smallest things-"

"People see that because that's what you keep showing them. Show me something else. Show me who you can really be. Show me who you were on the North Mountain because you were happy there. Life's only as bad as you make it."

And now the scars ached and pulled, and there was a tension boiling up inside Elsa that she just wanted to get out.

"Who were you before the closed doors?" Anna asked, a little more subdued. "You wanted to be queen back then. I remember."

Elsa shook her head slightly, it wasn't an answer but it was the best she could do with her powers raging inside her and the white scars begging for attention.

"You wanted to be queen. You wanted to take care of Arendelle. You wanted to be like Papa. And now? Look me in the eye and tell me you haven't changed." She still had the papers in her hands. She held them up. "You have to believe in something."

No answer.

"If you can't believe in yourself, at least believe in me. I've been outside your door your whole life. Just let me in."

"I have. You know everything about me. Every fault, every problem, every mistake."

"All but one." Anna reminded her.

Elsa nodded slightly. "All but one."

"And maybe letting go of that secret would help." It was not morbid curiosity prompting her to push the matter. Anna wasn't sure she even wanted to know about Elsa's first attempt at suicide, because the one she had seen had been so heart rending she didn't know if she had the strength to face that again.

But Elsa's heart lightened after secrets were out. After the Great Freeze, she had been laid back and borderline happy for weeks. After the second attempt to take her life, she had been relaxed and almost content. Anna had the feeling that if Elsa just got this off her chest, she would feel better.

These were terrible thoughts to face alone.

Elsa slumped into her chair again. She didn't resume her work; she just stared at her desk, as though the answers to everything might lie in those papers and smooth wood. But of course they didn't. The answers lay within. But the inside of Elsa's mind was so dark and deadly that she rarely ventured in.

Maybe that's why all the darkness escaped in her sleep; her hold on it was lessened.

Anna sat down again as well, waiting. She still wasn't leaving until Elsa ate something. "You do realise I'm not going to leave you alone, right?"

Elsa sounded almost light-hearted. "I think you like it." She picked up her pen, and continued to work. "We're on the same side of the door."


	5. Chapter 5 - Three Days

Chapter 5 – Three Days

How could anyone have the willpower to starve themselves? Anna asked herself this question several hours later, when her stomach growled loudly. She tried to ignore it – clearly Elsa had. She hadn't even looked up from her work. Anna wondered if talking would help her forget the fact that breakfast had been hours ago. "What are you working on?"

"Complaints and suggestions. Figuring out how to improve Arendelle." Elsa still didn't look up.

"Don't you think you should take a break?"

"When I'm finished."

Anna sighed, and Elsa finally glanced at her, a strained smile on her face.

"You can go, Anna. You don't need to sit here all day."

"I told you, I'm not leaving until you've eaten something."

Elsa had put that notion out of her mind completely. She pursed her lips slightly, thinking. "Don't you think you're going a bit overboard?"

"It's lunch time. Do you know what that means?"

"You're hungry," Elsa guessed, head down again.

"It's been three days. I'm worried about you. Elsa, look at me."

She couldn't ignore a direct request. Elsa put her pen down, and gave Anna her undivided attention. She looked tense, nervous, as though she was about to be told off for some heinous misdemeanour.

"You haven't eaten in three days," Anna said slowly, hoping Elsa would get the fact that this was not okay.

"I'm not hungry." Elsa fidgeted, but she was telling the truth. She had more important things to do, and anyway, the thought of food made her feel slightly sick. "I'm fine. You know I'm fine, Bae hasn't come knocking on the door."

"You can't starve yourself trying to make Arendelle better. No one's going to blame you for taking time to eat. Please, Elsa. You're scaring me."

That made Elsa's tense posture soften slightly. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to upset you. But I really don't want anything."

They stared at each other for a moment, then Anna's worry degenerated into pure, petulant childishness. She stood up. "I'm telling Kai."

"What? No!" Elsa jumped up. "Anna!"

"Kai!" Anna ran for the door, Elsa scrambled around her desk to follow. "Kai! Elsa hasn't eaten in _three days_!"

"Anna!"

"And she won't stop working to-" Anna was cut off rather abruptly when Elsa caught up to her at the door and clamped a freezing cold hand across Anna's mouth. "Mm-mm?"

"What is wrong with you?" Elsa hissed. She made the mistake of letting Anna go, and her sister immediately turned to her.

"What's wrong with _me_?" Anna asked incredulously. "There's nothing wrong with me. It's _you_, Elsa. _You_ have something wrong. You're the one starving yourself because you're too 'busy' to eat. You're the one waking up every hour because you're so stressed out that you've over looked something that you can't sleep. You're the one making yourself sick trying to prove that you're not. How are you going to convince the council that you're fit to rule if you collapse?"

"I'm fine," Elsa snarled, and while the temperature in the room was plummeting, there had been no snow appearing so far. "I'm trying to do better-"

"You're not!" Anna's voice increased in pitch and volume, drowning out whatever Elsa had been about to say. "You're just pretending to be better! Nothing's changed! You can't hurt yourself because you promised me you'd stop, so instead you're starving yourself. Don't make this your third attempt, Elsa. Don't put me through that again."

Now Elsa could feel the ice moving and shifting, begging for release. And then she noticed her heart was pounding rapidly, so rapidly that she felt a little dizzy. She clenched her fists, trying to hold onto her powers, but the ice was spreading around her feet. Her heart was pounding in her ears, everything looked slightly blurry. "I said I wouldn't. Don't you trust me?"

Her voice sounded far away, the blood rushing in her ears was drowning out the noise and it felt so uncomfortably hot.

"Not right now," Anna snapped back. "You're hardly inspiring confidence, and . . . are you okay?" Anna hesitated, because Elsa looked a bit vacant. "Elsa?"

Her head was spinning. _Must have got up too fast,_ she thought. _That's all_. But it wasn't getting better, it was getting worse. She was hot and dizzy and everything was blurring. She didn't have any warning before the whole world snapped to black.

* * *

><p>"She just collapsed," Anna explained anxiously, after her shrieking had brought Kai running to the study. She was sitting on the floor, cushioning Elsa's head in her lap, because the floor was hard, and Elsa needed a little bit of comfort.<p>

"What could have caused it?" Kai wondered, kneeling down as well and taking one of Elsa's hands in his own.

Anna hesitated. "She hasn't eaten in a while." Could that be it? Too much work, too little rest, too little food, and a heated argument.

"Let's get her to bed, and I'll fetch a doctor," Kai said. He gently gathered Elsa up and stood up. Anna hovered around him, keeping a close eye on Elsa for any thrilling signs of life. She looked so still, and so pale, and Anna was gripped by a sudden fear.

What if this was Elsa's breaking point?

* * *

><p>While Kai and the doctor were with Elsa, Anna went to her room to fetch an extra blanket, since she intended to stay with Elsa until she was better, and Elsa's room got very cold sometimes. She went into her room, and found Bae lying still on the floor.<p>

"Bae!" she rushed to his side, kneeling next to him. "Hey, little guy, what's wrong?"

The snow deer's ice blue eyes were open; he made a feeble sound when he saw her. Anna laid a hand on his smooth white body; he was slightly warmer than normal, and damp.

"No, Bae, you're okay." She resisted the urge to pick him up and cuddle him, because she was too warm for him right now. "It's okay, you're gonna be fine, and Elsa's gonna be fine."

But the fact that the little calf was feeling the heat drove home the fact that Elsa was really not well. Anna smoothed the flaky snow on Bae's head, he strained to lean into the touch like he always did.

"Bae, I've got to check on Elsa. I'll be back in five minutes." Anna stroked him once more, then stood up and grabbed the blanket off her bed. She rushed back to Elsa's room, just in time to see the doctor leave.

"Kai?" she asked, seeing him standing at Elsa's side still holding her hand. "Is she okay?"

"The doctor thinks it's just exhaustion," Kai sounded weary. "She's been pushing herself too hard, her body just gave up."

"How long will it take her to get better?"

Kai heaved a sigh. "Honestly? I don't know."

"I'm going to stay with her." Anna said. "Bae's not well, either." She swallowed the lump in her throat that reminded her of the original Bae, who was no longer with her. She couldn't lose him twice.

Elsa looked relaxed for the first time in weeks. Numerous nights spent sharing a bed had acquainted Anna with Elsa's common night time habits, one of which was to grip the sheets with tight fists. She was not doing that now, but there was still a concentrated line between her eyebrows. The room was cold.

Anna dumped her blanket on the edge of the bed, and ran back to her room to fetch Bae. She placed him on the floor on her side of the bed, then climbed up next to Elsa, so she could watch them both. Bae cried a little, wanting to be held and comforted, but Anna didn't want to touch him too much in case her warm hands melted him.

"You're an idiot," Anna finally said, because she was lonely and she needed to get these thoughts off her chest. "I told you to take a break. I told you that you need a holiday. You need some time off, Elsa. Look, you can't work forever. Your body can't take it."

Elsa remained blissfully unaware of the lecture she was getting.

"We should go away together, just the two of us." Anna studied the ceiling. "Where would you like to go? You don't like too much sun."

Her eyes roamed the room. Most of it was familiar, everything meticulously neat. Elsa liked order and control. One thing was different, though. The ornate, dark wooden box on the bench under the window.

Anna glanced at her sister. Elsa was sleeping soundly, deathly still. Bae had settled, he was no longer crying for attention. This might be Anna's only chance to open that very last door between her and Elsa. She got silently to her feet, and crept across the room as quietly as possible.

She sat under the window, sent another furtive glance at Elsa, and picked up the box. It was lighter than it should be, holding all that it did. Anna ran her fingers over the patterns on the wood, then gripped the well-worn marks in the side. She held her breath, then opened the box.

_Last door_. Her heart pounded. This box was the very last dark corner of Elsa's mind that had no light shining into it. This was the only place where sunshine did not reach.

The first letter was curled and slightly faded. Anna peeled it back, wondering how many there were, and what they all detailed. She caught glimpses of the content, just glancing briefly.

_I'm worried about Elsa._

_Elsa's not well._

_We couldn't get in her room the other day, she had frozen the door shut._

_Elsa won't let any one touch her any more._

Anna looked up when she heard Elsa shifting; her eyes were still tightly closed but she looked uncomfortable. Bae squirmed as well, ears creasing back, and Anna hopped up and went to Elsa's side. "Hey. Elsa. It's okay."

Elsa had one hand locked into the sheets; they were crackling over with ice and frost, spreading rapidly. Anna laid a hand on Elsa's shoulder, but had to draw it back almost immediately because the cold was too much to bear.

She chewed her lip worriedly, wondering what to do.

On the floor, Bae was waking up, kicking out with his legs as though he didn't know up from down. An idea crossed Anna's mind. When she calmed Elsa, Bae settled. Would it work the other way around? Bae wouldn't accidentally freeze her if he got upset.

She moved to the thrashing reindeer calf, and scooped him up in her arms. He protested and kicked, but he was weak, and Anna kept him pinned to her chest. She lay down on the bed, the sheets cracked into jagged planes of ice under the weight of her body, and kept Bae cradled close.

"Shh," she whispered onto the top of his head. "It's okay. Both of you. I'm here."

The calf pressed firmly into her chest, hiding his face, and the sounds of growing ice ceased. Anna kept one arm around Bae, the other sought out Elsa's hand clenched in the sheets. Anna laid her hand softly on Elsa's, and to her surprise Elsa let the sheets go and gripped Anna's hand fiercely.

Anna sucked in a breath, _yikes that's cold_, but she didn't pull away. Bae relaxed against her, his blue eyes finally becoming still, and the cold of his body seeped into Anna's clothes. After a few minutes, she had to lift him onto the bed next to her and fumble for her blanket.

The afternoon wore on, and soon Kai knocked on the door and peered inside. "Princess Anna? There is a meeting scheduled with the council now. What do you want me to tell them?"

"Uh," Anna paused, one hand still holding Elsa's, the other cradling Bae. "Is it urgent?"

"As far as I know, it's to discuss the improvements to Arendelle that Queen Elsa is putting into place."

_She's already discussing that with council?_ Anna was flummoxed. She assumed it would still take weeks to get to this point. How much work had Elsa been doing? "I better go. They already have it in for Elsa, don't tell them she's not well."

Anna had sat in on several council meetings in the last few weeks, but she had never been alone in one. She would be lying if she said she wasn't nervous, but one look at Elsa and she knew she had to do this. She eased her hand from Elsa's and carefully let go of Bae.

Kai nodded, in agreement with her decision. "I will stay with her."

"Make sure Bae stays out of the sun," Anna said urgently as she rushed past him to get ready for her meeting.

"I will," Kai replied to her rapidly disappearing body.

He shook his head at her unorthodox departure, then took a seat next to Elsa. Bae lifted his head, ears still hanging dully, but when Kai appeared not to be a threat he settled down and closed his eyes again.

"Elsa," Kai sighed. "We've got to learn to chase these thoughts away."

She remained asleep, perfectly still.

"I promised your father I'd keep you safe. I said I would protect you. Now I'm the one who looks like a liar." He reached out and tenderly brushed a few strands of white blond hair from her face. "You're my baby, too, you know. I remember the day you were born. Your parents had such high hopes for you. You've always been a quiet child. I only time I saw you cry was when you were learning to crawl. You got excited, and made a little patch of ice on the floor. Your hands slipped and you bumped your chin.

"I watched your powers grow. As they got stronger, it seemed like you grew weaker. They took over more and more of your life. You need to leave the cold behind. There's two versions of you in here," he brushed her hair gently again. "There's little Elsa who loved her powers and her sister and herself. You wanted to be Queen. You wanted Arendelle to be yours. Then suddenly there was more ice and less Elsa, and now you don't like who you've become, but you're afraid to change. Please," he leant forwards and pressed a soft kiss to the side of her head. "Bring my little Elsa back."


	6. Chapter 6 - Follow Me

Chapter 6 – Follow Me

"What's your name?" Anna asked boldly, resisting the urge to cross her arms and instead placing them on the table in front of her the way she knew Elsa did when she was thinking hard. She had called the councilman in question quite a few names in the past, but she didn't think Elsa would be amused if she repeated any of them out loud.

"Councilman Benedict," he replied, still looking smug. Anna wondered why Elsa hadn't punched him yet.

"Right, well, hi, I'm Princess Anna of Arendelle and that makes me your superior," she said snippily, because she only been in this meeting for twenty seconds and she was already pissed off.

"Princess, you still haven't answered my question. Where is Queen Elsa?"

"She is currently indisposed," Anna said, trying her best to put on a more regal tone of voice, but really, there was a reason Elsa was so much better at this. "I'm taking over her duties for the day."

"Because she's probably incapable of it," Benedict snapped. "There is no reason for her not to be here."

"Please don't presume to know why my sister isn't present. She has a lot of important things to attend to, and since this is hardly a life or death matter, I'm stepping in and helping her."

"Because she needs help. Because she can't actually do this on her own-"

"Oh, shut up," Anna snapped, slamming both palms on the table and standing up. She had no idea how these meetings usually went, but she had a feeling this one was deviating from the usual construct. "She's not _supposed_ to do this on her own. You're here to _help_ her, not berate her. It's your job to make sure that she's acting in Arendelle's best interests. It is _not_ your job to constantly talk about her behind her back and make snide comments to her face. If it were up to me I'd fire every single one of you, but Elsa seems to think that you know what you're talking about and that's the only reason you're still here.

"Elsa's not incapable, she's far _too_ capable and that's why she worries herself sick over everything. She's trying to make Arendelle damn near perfect and you are all meant to be helping her. There hasn't been a day where she hasn't put this country's needs ahead of her own. You're just heckling her because you don't like her! Well, guess, what? I'm in charge now. You want to have a go at me, go ahead. I'm not a Queen, I have nothing to lose. Elsa won't tell you what she really thinks because she doesn't think it's proper but I have absolutely no qualms about speaking my mind."

"Princess Anna-"

"I am _not_ finished yet! You've also been trying to make Elsa feel bad for being herself. We _know_ she's depressed, that's a part of who she is. It's not going to change, but it's never affected Arendelle before and it certainly won't now. Elsa isn't some fragile flower; she's the strongest, kindest and most controlled person I know. It doesn't matter what she looks like to you, it only matters what she makes Arendelle look like to the rest of the world. If I hear _anyone_ talking about Elsa like there's something wrong with her I will make it my personal mission to make your life a living hell. And trust me; I've got the time and inclination to do it really well."

Benedict looked suitably chastised, but that didn't stop him from trying to harass Anna further. "Is there some reason Queen Elsa can't speak for herself?"

"_Yes_," Anna practically roared. "Because she's far too busy trying to make your life easier, and everyone's lives easier, that she never bothers to make her _own_ life easier. She's not going to tell you to shut up because she expects life to be hard. And that's the fault of everyone around her, and I'm doing my best to try and make her see that it doesn't have to be that way. Now," Anna finally sat down again. "Why is this meeting scheduled so soon after the first one?"

There was a long, tense silence, in which several people wondered if the mental stability of the princess should be more thoroughly questioned than that of the queen. Anna looked expectant, and eventually someone cleared their throat and offered tentatively, "We needed Queen Elsa's approval to send out the new treaties."

"The new what?"

"There are several countries that Queen Elsa is trying to establish trade with. She wrote up the treaties, but we still need to know what ships to equip."

Anna's eyes narrowed. "Have we done this sort of thing before?"

"Yes, but not for years. Things might have changed."

"If anything had changed," Anna said slowly, "I can guarantee that Elsa would have made a note of it. I have complete faith that anything she sends forwards to the council is flawless. Do whatever she says, and I'll take responsibility if anything goes wrong."

The council seemed satisfied with that. The meeting droned on for a few minutes, with lots of muttering and mundane questions that made Anna want to slam her head onto the table over and over again. Finally, she was able to dismiss everyone, and heaved a sigh of relief when the room started to empty.

Councilman Benedict remained.

Anna eyed him. "Yes?"

"It's not fair to Arendelle to have it under the control of someone who lacks her own."

"When has Elsa ever endangered any part of Arendelle?" Anna countered.

"She cast an eternal winter over the entire country. She caused a blizzard strong enough to capsize a ship that was frozen into the fjord. She is dangerous, and she's out of control. Is that the kind of person who you want with the power over your life?"

Anna glared at him. "There is no one else in the world I'd rather have. No one will try harder for this country than Elsa. A hundred years from now, you will be nothing more than a name on a stone. Elsa will be part of history."

Benedict rose from his seat. He levelled a glare at her. "As a Queen or as a monster?"

* * *

><p>Anna closed the door softly. "Elsa? Are you awake?"<p>

The sun was beginning to set, the room was slightly golden.

There was no answer from Elsa; she remained perfectly still.

Anna padded to the window, to where she had left the box of letters. She was fairly certain Elsa wouldn't read them, so all she needed to do was sneak the letters out, leave the box, and Elsa would never know Anna had them. Until Anna read them and confronted her sister.

But that would be a problem for another day.

"Hi, Bae," Anna whispered as she pried the lid off the box. The calf trotted to her, looking much happier than he had been a few hours ago. "You're looking better."

She collected the letters and closed the box again, telling herself that she wasn't sneaking, she was 'researching'. But she couldn't help but feel as though she was going behind Elsa's back. Elsa didn't want anyone to know what lay here. She wanted this to remain a secret.

But secrets hurt, and hiding hurt more, and Anna needed to be on the same side of the door as Elsa. There was not a day that passed that Anna didn't think how much better life would have been with no secrets. She would have done so many things differently if she had only known. She would have made so many better decisions if she had just _known_. And Elsa was so much better with her secrets in the open, without the burden of holding them all alone.

Anna just wanted to take a little bit more weight from Elsa's overloaded shoulders. And sometimes Elsa needed a push in the right direction, because she never saw the benefit in revealing secrets right away. She needed time to process things, time to see what Anna could see. It took longer for Elsa to see the world, because hers was shrouded in darkness.

Anna's was bright and sunny, and she knew if she could get just that little bit closer to Elsa, her sunshine would help light Elsa's world.

* * *

><p>"Do you want to build a snowman?"<p>

She couldn't bear to hear that question again. She couldn't bear that plaintive voice whispering through the keyhole for another season. She had suffered through six years of it already.

How long would this nightmare last?

"Elsa?"

Oh, god, she was still there. Elsa wrapped her arms around herself, biting hard on her lip to stop from sobbing out loud. _Oh, please go. Please don't ask me again._

"It's snowing and there's so much of it. We can make a thousand snowmans and never run out of snow."

It was indeed snowing, and the gently falling flakes were pulling her down. She felt herself sliding down the wall, landing with a muffled thump because her legs just couldn't hold her upright any more.

"Please? Just one snowman."

She brought both hands to her mouth, to muffle the sob that broke free against her will. And the snow fell harder, but she didn't care because she was focused on the soft tap-tapping at her door.

"It's not snowing so hard that we can't go outside, you know."

It was snowing just as hard inside, but Anna didn't know that. Elsa kept her hands pressed to her mouth, trying not to make too much noise, because if Anna heard her sobbing she'd just ask more questions, and stay longer, and the cold was seeping out around her, and all she could think about was that white streak in her sister's hair.

A few minutes passed, there was muted murmuring outside the door, then another knock. "Elsa? Can I come in?" Her mother. Oh, _thank you_, it wasn't Anna trying again. How could she keep trying, year after year, when Elsa always turned her away? When would she give up?

And if she gave up . . . Elsa had the feeling she would give up, too. "Yes." She managed to choke out a single word.

Idun came in quietly, shut the door again, and stood looking at her daughter, huddled on the floor with her eyes closed against threatening tears, in a little circle of snow.

_She looked as though she wanted to just give up. All she wants is her sister, but she's so afraid now that it seems like they may never be together again. We expected control of her powers to get better. But she's struggling now, and it's getting worse._

"You know getting upset doesn't help," Idun said, staying at the door, because Elsa would not tolerate anyone near her.

"I can't stop myself. I'm not doing this on purpose." Elsa drew her knees to her chest, and let her face fall forwards onto them. "It's not my fault. It's not me."

_She doesn't think she can do anything right, because all she's been doing lately is getting things wrong. And she's facing this all alone. I want to hold her, but I can't even lay a hand on her shoulder. Every night, I have to say good night to her, and I can't even give her a good night kiss._

"Elsa. You'll be fine."

"You keep saying that. But it's getting worse, _I'm_ getting worse." She sounded frustrated with herself, because it had been such a gradual change that Elsa had not noticed her own thoughts changing.

Slowly, unbidden, her mind had started throwing away all traces of hope. Slowly, the feelings of joy and happiness had been buried away in the darkness of Elsa's fears. Slowly, the world had grown shadows. Slowly, her ice had pushed and prickled and tried to cut its way out of her.

And, slowly, she had wished that it would.

_She wants to hurt herself, I can see it. But I think she's too afraid that she'll never stop if she starts, and that seems to be the only thing holding her back._

Elsa was well acquainted with fear. It was her closest companion. She looked at the snow settled around her, and she knew that white was the colour of fear. It was everywhere around her. "I'm trying to hold it back, but it's stronger than I am . . ."

"It's not. It just feels so strong because you're still learning to control it. We knew your powers would grow stronger."

"They are. But I'm not."

She was told that fear would be her enemy. She knew that was true. But it also felt like it was her only friend, always there; the one thing that she knew would never, ever leave her all alone. It entwined with her sense of self, her consciousness, it drilled into the core of her being and became a part of her.

And you cannot escape from yourself.

* * *

><p>Elsa woke up in the night. Anna expected that.<p>

She shot back into wakefulness with a jolt, her mind racing, because she had a meeting with the council, and she hadn't finished the instructions for the new treaties, and-

"Elsa. It's okay. I handled everything." Anna had been woken by Elsa's sudden convulsion into consciousness, but she was still drowsy. "Calm down."

"What day is it?" Elsa's heart was pounding again. "How long was I asleep?"

"First of all, you weren't asleep." Anna yawned. "You collapsed. And I took care of everything. Even that ass-hat who keeps bothering you."

"Oh my god, what did you do?" Elsa sounded horrified; she was sitting up now, restless and edgy.

"I just spoke to him. What did you think I was going to do?"

_Anna took care of everything_, the black voice hissed. _She can handle life. She can handle _your_ life. Can't you handle it?_ "But . . . Everything?"

"Yeah. Everything you needed me to do." Anna stayed quiet after that, because Elsa often spoke when the darkness was hiding her, and these were the times when her greatest fears came out.

Elsa spoke after a few minutes, sounding small and weary. "I missed the meeting. What is everyone going to think of me now?"

"Well, I'm guessing the council will probably keep their thoughts to themselves." Anna was glad for the dark, because Elsa wouldn't see the colour rising on her cheeks. "And everyone else will just think that you're the greatest Queen ever. I looked over those treaties. You're . . . you're really going to help Arendelle. This is so much more than what Papa ever expected."

"But I _had_ to be there, it was my duty to be there. My responsibility."

"Okay, we're going to have a talk. What's the most important thing in your life?"

"You," Elsa answered promptly.

"And then? What else is very important to you?"

"Arendelle. It's people, and it's economy."

"Anything else?"

"Well," Elsa frowned, thinking hard. "Bae, he's important to you so he's important to me. And making Papa proud, making sure I'm always making Arendelle better."

"Nothing else?" Anna was waiting for something specific.

Elsa didn't know what she wanted. "That's it. That's what's important to me. You, and Arendelle, I'm not sure what else you want me to say."

"At what point did you stop thinking that _you_ were important? Why does everything come before you? You've given me about ten things that come first, before you. Why?"

"I . . ." Elsa didn't have an answer, because she couldn't exactly say, _I don't think I'm important._ "These are all things I need . . ."

"No." Anna wanted to shake her. "You think you need Arendelle? You need the people? No, you're wrong. They all need _you_. Elsa, everything you listed is nothing without _you_. Arendelle needs you. I need you."

A tiny part of Elsa wanted to agree. But a larger part insisted that everything had to come first, and Elsa came second, at best_. Got to be better. Got to make Arendelle better._

But what about 'got to _get_ better'?

"You believe you're the least important thing in this country." Anna's disbelief was audible. "How can you ever have started thinking that?"

Elsa shrugged. "Because I am. This country functioned for years without me. You lived for years without me. I was a ghost, I was a shadow. There was never anything to indicate that I am essential to anything. And now I find that I'm not coping, and I'm struggling, and it feels like I don't need to be here."

"Everyone needs you."

"But I don't see that."

"You don't see a lot of things. Because you keep looking for things in the dark."

"I feel safer."

"But . . . no one else can see you. I know you've opened doors, Elsa, but now you're just hiding in the shadows."

"You know I'm here," Elsa said softly.

"I _hope_ you're here." Anna said, and there was a slight waver in her voice. "I have to hope you're here every day. You've tried to take yourself away from me so many times. And there were years when I couldn't see you, and I didn't know you. Elsa, since the day you tried to kill yourself I've had to live every single day in fear, because I never know what you're going to do next."

Elsa shifted slightly. "You fear losing me, every day?"

"Yes. That's why I need Bae, that's why I need to know where you are and what you're thinking. I need to know that you are still here. I . . . I hate being afraid all the time."

"It's hard, isn't it?" Elsa murmured. "It changes things. Changes how you view the world."

For the first time, Elsa was realising that her hurt was hurting Anna, too. She wasn't alone. And they were connected, linked, which meant that neither one of their lives ran independently. Every hurt, every heart ache, every beam of joy, every promise, every door, _everything_ . . . they shared that.

"Yeah, it does. I can see all the problems with the world. I can see all the bad. I see what you see. And then I think that maybe that's why you like the dark. You can't see the bad."

"You didn't see it until I showed you," Elsa said sadly. "You were fine until I came back into your life. I'm the reason for all the hurt you've ever felt."

"And so? So, because you think you're not good enough for me, you're going to slowly kill yourself? And you're going to make me suffer through weeks and weeks of wondering and worrying and . . . and . . ."

"I told you I wouldn't do that again." It was a struggle at times. Elsa didn't often find security in life. Sometimes she wanted the warm embrace of death, on the days when life was too overwhelming. Her conviction to stay alive sometimes felt like a regret. "I promised."

"I want to trust you. I want to believe you. But you don't believe yourself, how are you going to convince me?"

"You've followed me so far on blind faith."

"Yeah, I know." Anna said. She fumbled in the darkness, and found one of Elsa's hands. "Now I need you to follow me."


	7. Chapter 7 - The Start

Chapter 7 – The Start

_Anna came to me today. She had been crying. She says she hadn't been, because she's a teenager now and she thinks that teenagers don't cry._

_I asked her what was wrong. She just said, "Elsa didn't laugh."_

_It turns out that she had been telling Elsa a story, about what she had done that morning-_

"I chased the frog back to the pond, Elsa. You won't believe how fast he was. I followed him onto the rocks but I slipped and landed on top of him in the water!" Here, she had to pause to laugh, and press an ear against the door. "He jumped down my dress! Do you know what I did then?"

There was silence behind the door, and there wasn't usually silence. There would be some indication of listening; a giggle muffled behind a hand, a slight thump when Elsa leaned against the door or rapped her knuckles against it gently just to let Anna know she was there.

"I was running around the garden and shrieking. Did you hear me? Papa says everyone heard me."

She paused again, eagerly, awaiting a response.

"Are you listening? Do you want to know what happened to the frog? Knock if you're still listening."

Another pause, a strained silence of anticipation fading into disappointment.

_-And Elsa didn't answer her. There was always some sort of answer, even if it was just to tell Anna to go away. She had never been ignored before._

_She went back to her room so that no one would see her cry. After she came to me, I went to check on Elsa. I hoped she was asleep, and that's why she hadn't said anything._

"Elsa? May I come in?"

The reply was dull. "Anyone can come in. It's just me who can't come out."

Idun came into the room, and closed the door softly behind her. "It's cold in here. Are you alright?"

Elsa was sitting on her bed, clutching a pillow to her chest. The gloves couldn't hide the taut lines of her hands, evidence of some sort of tense discomfort.

"Elsa?"

"I wanted to say something to her," Elsa whispered, staring into space. "I know I should have. I should have laughed. But I just couldn't. I . . . I can't laugh, Mama."

"Start with a smile. That's easier." Idun forced a smile; it was not warm and easy. It was laced with worry, because Elsa was frowning and rigid, and she had been this way more and more often as the weeks rolled on.

Elsa looked up at her, her face a blank mask, and for a long time nothing happened. Finally, Elsa looked away. "I can't."

"You can't what, darling?"

"I can't smile. It's not working today." Another part of her had broken, she was snapping apart piece by piece, and soon there would be nothing left of her but ice. First she had stopped talking to Anna. Then she had stopped laughing. Now, she wasn't even smiling.

"It'll get better. Things always do. Tell me how you're feeling."

_Agdar and I have spoken about Elsa many times before. I think she needs help. He thinks she just needs to focus on other things. I have no idea what Elsa thinks of all this, because she won't tell me._

"Please, Elsa? Tell me what you're thinking about."

Elsa held the pillow closer, and she closed her eyes to block out the light. Conceal it, don't feel it. "Nothing."

"How can you feel nothing? Everyone feels something."

_She worries me. I feel like I'm losing her. Every day, there's a bit less of the Elsa I once knew._

"I don't feel anything. I don't feel," Elsa said, and she muttered it into the pillow over and over again, "Don't feel, don't feel, don't feel."

Maybe this was normal. Maybe this was just who she was supposed to be.

_She's afraid of her own feelings. She's calm when she feels nothing, and she panics when she feels anything. What's going to happen to her when those feelings get out of control?_

* * *

><p>"You should be resting," Kai grumbled, as he doggedly followed Elsa to her study. "You passed out yesterday."<p>

"The past is in the past," Elsa said breezily. "And I'm feeling much better. I really am."

She had even eaten breakfast with Anna. And promptly thrown it all back up again, but no one needed to know that.

"You should still be resting."

Elsa spun around, stopping Kai in his tracks. Her eyes were hard, but the rest of her face was regal and serene. "I wake up every morning wondering what I'm doing. Why am I here? What am I supposed to be bringing to the world? I've spent years thinking I was a curse and a monster. And I'm not the only one thinking it. Lots of people do. And Anna's made it very clear that I can't convince anyone otherwise unless I . . . also convince myself."

"And how does that justify trying to work yourself to death?"

"I asked Anna if she was happy. And if it was easy to be happy." Elsa's strong gaze faltered for a moment. "I hadn't been truly happy for years. But there was one time when I was. When everything was beautiful and I felt joy. And that was on the North Mountain."

"You're not . . . thinking of leaving?" Kai questioned cautiously.

"No. I'm done running. And I can't leave Anna." Elsa bit her lip. "But while I was resting-"

"Passed out from exhaustion."

"- I thought about what made me happy. It was . . . being free. Being _me_. No right, no wrong, no rules. And . . . letting my powers go, and using them for me again. I hid them for so long, but they are _me_, and I need to use them to really be myself."

Kai nodded, and he waited patiently for her to continue.

"I think the reason I feel like I don't belong in this life is because there's nothing around me that reflects who I am. This isn't a palace of ice, this country isn't always covered in snow, and that's a world that I love. That will make me happy. But I can't cast Arendelle into an eternal winter."

Kai felt a sagging sense of relief; he had been slightly concerned about where Elsa's mind was going.

"I need to make Arendelle mine. I need to look at it and _want_ to be a part of it. I need to feel like it's mine, and I'm it and the two of us must belong together. And that's what I was working on." Elsa fidgeted slightly. "I'm trying to change Arendelle. Make it better." _Just like me._

"But none of that will matter if you're not around to enjoy it," Kai said gently.

"I know. I . . . just had trouble understanding that." Elsa closed her eyes for a second, mustering courage, and when she opened them again the endless blue was slightly pained. "I need help, Kai. I need someone to tell me when I have to take a break. I need someone to make sure I take a walk with Anna or something. And I need someone to tell me if I'm messing up."

Kai nodded.

"Anna does a lot of it, I know, but she's got her own work to do. I know I ask a lot of you, but . . ."

"Anything for you." Kai said. "But I want something from you, too."

Elsa looked at him curiously.

"I watched you grow up. I've seen you every day since the day you were born. I will make sure that you are safe and healthy, but I need you to do me a favour in return. I need you to remember the days when you wanted to be Queen. The days when you loved your magic. When you believed you could do anything."

Those memories had long since been hidden in darkness, over shadowed by the many demons running rampant through Elsa's mind. She was trying to bring those memories back into the light. "I'm trying, Kai. I remember those days. I'll find a way to believe them again."

"Thank you. Now, don't you think you should go back to bed and rest? Princess Anna said she was taking care of everything today."

"I have one thing to do," Elsa said. "It won't take long."

"Call if you need me."

"I will." Elsa smiled as Kai bowed, and her smile broadened just a little bit more when she realised that she _could_ smile. She entered her study, and closed the door.

There was someone waiting for her, seated patiently, and Elsa made her way to her desk and sat down. "Thank you for coming."

Councilman Benedict looked sour. "I hope you're going to announce that you're planning to step down from the throne."

Elsa ignored that. She looked him dead in the eye. "You knew Arendelle before my father ruled it."

"Yes. Back when it wasn't ruled by women and magic."

"And you've seen a lot of changes to it. You've even implemented some of those changes."

"Yes."

Elsa sat a bit straighter. "Has there ever been any sort of change that hasn't made Arendelle a better place? To your knowledge, has anyone ever ordered a change that wasn't the best thing for this country?"

"Not as of yet."

"And if we were to improve upon it even more, what is the first thing you would do?"

"You're . . . asking my opinion?"

"Well, yes." Elsa deadpanned. "You've proven to be quite opinionated."

Benedict had the decency to look slightly ashamed. "Yes. Perhaps." He cleared his throat. "If I were in charge, I would open up more trade with neighbouring countries. I would send more diplomats to other countries, and maybe create some sort of military alliance. We are a very small country, our infantry is not impressive. Ideally, I would like to expand our farmlands further into the mountains, but that would of course require a larger work force."

"How would you acquire that?"

"There are groups of people living outside Arendelle that do not have many job opportunities. I'm sure they could be hired for things like clearing the forests and expanding roads."

"What about education?"

"I would like to see more schools. We also have a shortage of private tutors, it would be nice to have something in place to train up more tutors and . . . why are you asking me all this?"

Elsa wordlessly opened the middle drawer of her desk and selected a thick stack of paper. She slid it towards him.

Benedict took it, and leafed through, his normally dour face growing slightly awed. "What is all this?"

"I haven't been sitting around being depressed," Elsa said quietly. "I've been putting all these new projects into place. I went through every single one of my father's notes, I looked into the records of Arendelle left by my grandfather, and these are the things I want to change."

"There is a lot here."

"I know. I'm not perfect and neither is Arendelle, but I will do my best to make it seem that way. Of course, doing all of this and my other duties will be impossible."

"Yes."

"That's why I'm putting you in charge of it."

There was a stunned silence. Benedict stared at her. "I beg your pardon?"

"I am promoting you to Head of Council. Every single one of the projects outlined there are now your responsibility."

"Why me?"

"You know Arendelle well. Also, you don't like me. If something is incorrect, I am certain you will bring it to my attention. And I'm hoping to change your mind about me. I _am_ depressed, we know that. But it will not affect Arendelle, and I trust that you will raise any concerns you have with me promptly."

"Yes." Benedict was still slightly over whelmed.

Elsa remained impassive. "Hopefully this is up to par for a young, inexperienced, magic-addled woman."

"I'm sure it is," Benedict said faintly.

"Benedict." She didn't sound angry. "You doubt my ability to rule Arendelle. You think I won't be able to manage. You seem to think that I'll drag this place down with my inevitable break down. But there is no one who is more aware of my shortcomings than I am. No one can doubt me more than I doubt myself. I will not see Arendelle fall."

He did not apologize. Elsa expected that.

"You can go."

Benedict stood up. He said nothing.

"Leave the door open."

He did pause in the door way, to look back at her curiously, as though wondering what had sparked this sudden change. Elsa remained quiet and poised, and he left her alone, with the door standing open.

If the door was open, the sun streamed in.

* * *

><p>"You're in a good mood." Anna commented, bouncing into Elsa's room later that day. "I heard you called a meeting with Councilman Jackass. Did you fire him?"<p>

"No." Elsa replied. She was reclining on her bed, stroking Bae with one hand while the white reindeer lay nestled against her side. "I promoted him."

"What?" Anna's shriek caused Bae to jump up, looking searchingly around the room for danger.

"He is very good at his job," Elsa said. "That's all that really matters."

"_All that really . . .?_" Anna spluttered. "Did you fall and hit your head?"

"What? No." Elsa frowned. "Anna, he's going to oversee all the new treaties I'm putting into place. So Arendelle is more stable."

"Oh." Anna looked suspicious. "You're not doing all this so that . . . so it doesn't matter if something happens to you, because Arendelle is all taken care of?"

There was a brief spike of hurt lancing through Elsa's chest at Anna's assumption that she was going to do something irrational and destructive. But she pushed it aside. "No, it's not that. Um . . . if I can see a difference . . . maybe it'll show me that I am worth something. I want to make Arendelle mine, so that I know . . . that I'm needed here."

Anna's suspicions faded.

"I know you want me to wake up one day and suddenly see the world as you see it, but that's not going to happen," Elsa said. "This is going to take time, and I'm going to take steps forward, and I'm going to take steps back, but . . . at least I'll be going somewhere."

"Giving yourself something to focus on," Anna nodded. "So you have meaning."

"Yeah." Elsa agreed.

"And, maybe, actually looking after yourself?"

"Bae will tell you if there's anything wrong," Elsa said, giving the calf another affectionate rub on the head. Elsa glanced around her room, and her eyes fell on the dark wooden box near the window.

Anna followed her eyes, and her stomach tightened. That box was empty; every single letter was stashed in Anna's room so she could read them.

Elsa went to the box, and picked it up carefully. She kept her eyes down. "I know you want to know what's in here. But . . . but it's such a dark time that I don't want to face it again. I need to leave it behind."

Anna remained silent.

"It's a time I'm not proud of, and it's a time where I was someone that you don't want to know. So . . . let's just pretend it never happened. Okay?" Elsa looked at Anna with such raw hope that Anna couldn't bear to confess.

She nodded. "Sure, Elsa. Do what you think is right."

Elsa looked visibly relieved. She offered a tentative smile, and took the box to her closet. Anna went to sit with Bae while Elsa jammed the box in a corner and closed the closet doors with a self-satisfied little smile.

Bae nuzzled contentedly into Anna's side. She stroked him automatically. "So . . . feeling better then?"

"Much," Elsa said, and Anna grinned in response. This had happened a few times before – after a major break down Elsa's mood would lighten for weeks.

"You still need a break, you know," Anna said. "A holiday. Not an afternoon."

"We'll get there." And that was progress, too, because Elsa wasn't dismissing the idea, nor was she defending her time. She was acknowledging that a break was a necessity. All Anna had to do was harass her until it happened.

* * *

><p>"This is very detailed," Benedict said, frowning over Elsa's near novel on the impending changes to Arendelle. "It must have taken days."<p>

"Weeks." Elsa corrected. She paused, then asked hopefully, "Is it alright?"

Benedict answered grudgingly. "Damn near perfect."

"Good," Elsa breathed.

In the ensuing silence, Benedict watched Elsa carefully.

She had called him to her study again, to make sure everything was in order, and while she was still tense and tight-lipped, he was impressed by what she had done so far. He cleared his throat. "I wasn't expecting such thorough work from you."

"You weren't expecting any work from me at all."

"No. I suppose I wasn't. Still . . . I'm sorry for my earlier comments."

"It's okay. You weren't wrong about me."

"I think I was." He tapped the document. "From what I've seen these last few days . . . I think you'll do better than your father. Maybe one day you'll be someone I can be proud of."

"Better than my father?" Elsa questioned, awed by the prospect.

"Time will tell. You're still young. You've got a lot of time to make mistakes. And you will make them."

"Well, if I don't bring Arendelle to its knees, it won't be too big a problem." Elsa said coolly.

Benedict nodded gruffly. "I'll get to work on this." He gathered the document again.

Elsa stopped him just before the left the study. "You don't like me."

He thought hard before answering, Elsa assumed he was taming whatever comment had sprung into his mind first. "No, I don't."

"You think I'm a depressed fool who's going to freeze Arendelle."

"Yes."

"Let me know if that ever starts to happen." She needed someone to watch her back, someone who would step in swiftly if she ever took the wrong path. Someone to guide her in the massive task of being Queen. This was a job Anna couldn't handle; it was a job Kai couldn't understand. Elsa needed someone to keep her on the straight and narrow, someone who wouldn't allow her to take the scenic route to recovery.

Benedict nodded. "Believe me, I will."


	8. Chapter 8 - Life Feels Better

Chapter 8 – Life Feels Better

Anna wondered if she should lock her door. She had already closed it, and that had felt like some sort of sacrilege, because she didn't _do_ closed doors anymore. But she couldn't be caught doing what she was doing.

She was reading the letters Elsa thought were hidden away and left to be forgotten.

Bae was dozing on the floor, blissful and content, so Anna knew that Elsa was still alright. Anna didn't know how long _she_ was going to be alright for, because she was gripping her bottom lip between her teeth so hard it hurt, and swallowing a lump in her throat over and over again, because she could just feel the pain in what she was reading.

* * *

><p><em>Elsa won't let anyone touch her anymore. I can't even hug my own daughter.<em>

"Please. I don't want to hurt you." She looked pleadingly at both parents, holding her fists together as though trying to hold onto her own fears.

The King leaned towards her, every instinct telling him to step up to her, hold her, let her know that everything would be alright. But he didn't, because Elsa was terrified, and getting closer would only make it worse.

_I thought it would just be for a few days. Once she calmed down, everything would go back to the way it was. But it's been more than a week now, and she still won't let anyone near her. I can't put a hand on her shoulder. I can't brush the tears off her cheeks._

"You won't hurt me," Idun said, trying to sound soft and encouraging. "It's been days, Elsa. Nothing bad has happened."

_She wants to be hugged. I can see how it hurts her to move away. But she is so gripped with fear that she won't even allow me to try._

"No," she shook her head, vigorously, and little white wisps of frost started rising from her. "I'll hurt you."

"You won't hurt me."

"I hurt Anna."

_She shouldn't have to live like this. She shouldn't have to suffer every day._

* * *

><p><em>Elsa giggled. "Just like that. But I like hugs more than he does. You'll always give me hugs, right?"<em>

"_Right until the day you ask me to stop," Idun promised._

"_Well," speculated the young princess. "That'll never happen."_

"_Then I'll never stop giving you hugs."_

* * *

><p><em>That day should never have come. No child should ever have to experience a parent's last hug, or a last kiss good night. She feels like she is failing as a princess and an heir. I feel like I'm failing as a mother. I should be able to comfort my own daughter.<em>

_What does she think of me?_

* * *

><p>Anna nearly leapt out of her skin when Bae's cold nose touched her elbow. "Oh!"<p>

He cocked his head to the side quizzically.

"I'm sorry, boy. I . . . oh, think about what Elsa had to go through. She thought she was going to hurt people just by touching them. She used to love hugging and snuggling. We'd often share a bed at night when we were kids."

It occurred to Anna that this was one of the reasons Elsa persisted in coming to Anna's room at night, perhaps not for comfort alone but to make up for lost time. To make up for years and years of suppressing the most basic human desire for contact.

Bae lay down next to Anna, as she wiped at her eyes and set the letter aside to reach for the next one. She stroked him absently as she read.

* * *

><p><em>Elsa skipped her lessons with her father today. She's never missed them before. She sounds as though she just wants to give up when she speaks. Since winter came, she's been even quieter than usual. I have no idea what's going on in her head, and she will not talk to me.<em>

"Elsa?" the King asked gently. "You missed your lessons today."

She stared out the window, eyes on the white snow outside, and pointedly refused to look at him.

The people outside were bundled in layers, covered in gloves and hats and heavy boots, and she was sitting with her gloved hands together, and it didn't make sense because she didn't feel the cold. _You're not trying to keep the cold out_, she reminded herself, feeling the itch of ice under her skin. _You're trying to keep it in._

"Elsa. You have responsibilities. You can't just skip them." His voice was gently chiding, wanting to be firm but there was, as always, an undertone of caution and Elsa hated that.

_Agdar tried to talk to her. They used to be so close, but lately it seems as though Elsa doesn't want to talk to him. He puts on a brave face and tries not to be hurt, but every time he leaves her room he looks weary._

Elsa hated how he worried about her, she hated how she was here, when Anna was out there, she hated that she was trapped in her own life. "I don't want to do it anymore."

"Don't want to do what?"

She knew he had come closer, and so she tensed because closer was bad. People should stay away from her. Everyone should stay away from her.

And really, how on earth was she meant to rule a country one day if no one could be near her?

"I can't be Queen. I can't be a princess." She sounded dull, flat like the snow outside. "I don't even know how to be myself."

_She won't take an interest in anything. We have to make sure she eats, otherwise she just sits in her room and reads or stares out the window._

"Elsa, love, we've talked about this before-"

"I can't do it," she said, cutting him off, for the first time she could ever remember. "This is not the way life is meant to go. And what good is it if I'm not living?" She stared at her hands; she felt the ice prickling the inside of her gloves. "Why should I even bother to get out of bed each day?"

"You have duties to perform. You have a country to uphold. Those are great reasons."

"Those are _your_ reasons!" Sharp tears were in her eyes. "What are mine? _You_ want me to be a princess, _you_ want me to run a country, but what about what I want? Don't I matter?"

"Calm down."

And that was just the last straw. Calm down? When did it end? When would it _ever_ end? Why did _she_ always have to calm down, couldn't she, for once, just be allowed to feel what she was feeling? Before the thought had even finished there was frost creeping out from her in a jagged webs.

She glared at it, angry that it was there. "Why must I always calm down? Why can't I ever be angry?"

She clenched her fists, the ice spiked under her skin, under the gloves, shooting back into her with a sharp jolt like a shock of electricity. "I want to leave."

"You belong here, Elsa."

"No!" She ran her hands through her hair, turned a frustrated look to her father. "No, _why_? Please tell me why. Why am I making myself go through this every day?"

"You will get it under control. One day, Elsa, everything will be fine."

"One day? We don't even know when 'one day' is. We've been doing this for years, and it's getting worse. I . . . Please," she said, desperately. "_Please_, I can't live like this anymore."

Her father looked sympathetic. He looked like he was sharing her pain. But his words were not what she wanted to hear, "You can't leave."

"I'm trapped here," Elsa snapped. "I don't belong here, I'm a prisoner here. I'm trapped in this life, and you won't let me out. Why won't you just let me go?"

"It's my decision. You need to understand, you need to be here. This is the life you were born into. You are going to be queen one day, and that is the role you need to fulfil."

"When I'm queen," Elsa said bitterly. "I'm not going to keep anyone here against their will. I won't trap anyone. If someone wants to leave . . . I'll let them leave."

"Letting go is not that easy."

"I don't care if it's the hardest thing in the world; I'm not going to force someone to be unhappy." Elsa looked defiant, and completely set on this new idea.

_She can see Anna out of her window. Anna always plays where Elsa can see her. Elsa talks often about freedom, about being able to run away and just be herself. She wants everyone to be free to make their own choices. I wonder, if Anna ever asked to leave, what Elsa would say?_

The King's expression softened. "You'll be a great queen."

"Ruling from my bedroom. My personal kingdom of isolation."

"One day, you will stand before Arendelle, and there will be no more doubt, and no more fear. I know you can make that happen."

"How?" She wanted to know, because she didn't have an answer. She needed the infallible wisdom of a king and a father to guide her. She waited, but Agdar couldn't provide a solution.

The King shook his head. "You'll figure it out."

Her heart was aching again, everything around her felt cold. She wanted warmth, she wanted someone to just hold her and let her be a child again, instead of whom she was now – a monster made of ice. She knew exactly how long it had been since someone touched her.

She could count it to the day.

"I won't miss lessons tomorrow," she said dully, because what else was she going to do with her time? She certainly wouldn't be out there with her sister building snowmen. She would be right here, trapped and caged and so alone.

She didn't know how much time passed between her father leaving and the tentative knock on her door, followed by the inevitable question, "Elsa? Do you want to build a snowman? I know you haven't for the last few years, but I thought that maybe you've changed."

But people don't really change.

Elsa didn't answer, it was easier to just stay quiet, and bottle up everything she thought and felt. It was becoming too easy.

_Anna still asks to build snowmen. She still hopes Elsa will come out._

Anna hoped, and Elsa despaired. How could two such radically different emotions be so close? And they were close, they were only inches apart.

But the door added miles between them.

* * *

><p>"Are you okay?" Elsa asked at dinner, and it struck her as ironic, because she was generally on the receiving end of that question.<p>

Anna was fiddling with her food, uncharacteristically quiet. She jerked her head up when Elsa spoke; she had been so deep in thought. "Huh?"

"I asked if you were alright. You're not normally like this."

Anna should be focusing on good things. Like the fact that Elsa was actually present at a meal, albeit picking at her food. Or the fact that Elsa seemed quite content at the moment, satisfied that Arendelle was being modified for the better and she was settling into the role of Queen. "Sorry. Distracted, I guess."

"Are you sure you're alright?" Elsa frowned slightly, and Anna felt guilty for making her worry when she was obviously in a much more peaceful frame of mind than usual.

"I'm fine. Really." Anna forced a smile, which Elsa returned. Anna fiddled with her food a bit more. "I guess I'm just tired. It's been a rough few days."

"I'm sorry," Elsa said instantly.

"No, no, it's not your fault," Anna hastily said. "I get it, you've got a problem, and sometimes it gets too bad for you to handle. It's not you."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." Anna felt it would be good to change the subject, before Elsa had a chance to spiral into self-doubt. "So, what are you working on? You seemed pretty excited earlier."

For the first time in ages, Elsa beamed. Her whole posture relaxed. "By next year, Arendelle's going to be a new country. And . . ." She looked coy for a moment. "And it's going to be great, and I'm going to make sure of that even though there's something wrong with me."

"Huh?"

"I've got so many problems, and no one is even going to know. I'm going to make Arendelle perfect, and Papa will be proud, and the council will be impressed."

For a moment, Anna forgot her own brooding. Elsa looked so pleased with herself that nothing else mattered. This was easily the most relaxed Anna had seen her sister in months. And while it was wonderful, it also made Anna slightly uneasy.

This had happened before; Elsa made rapid progress, then something would happen to bring her tumbling down again. Elsa bounced back and forth between such extremes that Anna was often left reeling, uncertain of where she stood. It was straightforward enough now; Elsa was satisfied and quietly content, and had acknowledged her own shortcomings without panic. But how long would it last? How long would that little smile sit on Elsa's face, before someone said something, and the darkness hiding in her mind leapt out and enveloped everything again?

"So, the things the council said don't bother you anymore?"

The smile slipped slightly, a fraction of tension snapped back into place. Elsa answered carefully, "It does, but they're right. I know they're right."

"You're gonna prove them wrong?"

"I'm going to try." _I'm going to be better. Better than anyone expects._

"I'm glad you're happy," Anna said, her own smile suddenly easy.

"I'm getting there," Elsa admitted. She was so used to carrying a knot of anxious despair in her stomach, and painfully rigid tension in her shoulders, that it felt strange to be relaxed. She wasn't happy yet, she still felt slightly empty inside, and the black voice was roaring doubts in her ears.

But she wanted to change, and she wanted to drown out all the bad things that flared up when she thought about herself. And for the first time, she was finding it easier to do during the day. Usually, the night covered her fears; the darkness swamped her insecurities, whereas the day brought them all to light, and made them glaringly obvious to her.

But, today, the sun was shining, and Anna was smiling, and Elsa felt like recovery might be within her reach. She wanted to be Queen today.

"So, now that you've got everything in place for Arendelle," Anna said innocently. "When can we take a holiday?"

Now that it seemed like Elsa wasn't on the brink of a massive break down, the idea of a holiday was even more appealing. Anna had never left Arendelle before; the prospect of going somewhere new was exciting.

Elsa's smile vanished. "What?"

"We need a break, remember? Time for just the two of us? It'll be fun, and it'll be good for you."

Elsa fidgeted. "A break?"

"Yep. Somewhere else."

"Leave Arendelle?"

"Well, yeah. Get away from it all." Anna smiled winningly. "Won't that be nice?"

Elsa's comfort zone noticed her unease, and it took off running for the hills. "But . . . away from Arendelle?" Away from the walls that were comforting and safe, and hid her away when she needed to hide.

"Elsa," Anna sounded slightly exasperated. "This isn't the end of the world, it's just a holiday."

"I've got a lot to do," Elsa hedged. "It could take weeks."

"But it won't, because you've done most of it already. Come on, it'll be fun."

"Can we talk about this another time? Maybe . . . next year?"

"Or we can talk about it now." Anna suggested stubbornly. "If you won't tell me when we can have a holiday, at least promise me we will have one, in the next year."

Elsa hesitated. She didn't lie, and she never went back on her word. If she agreed to this, there would be a holiday. She looked at Anna, at the stubborn jut to her jaw, and the childish frown creasing her forehead, and the slight glare in her eyes that couldn't quite over shadow Anna's obvious delight at both the idea and the fact that Elsa was considering it.

"Fine," Elsa breathed. "We will take a holiday together within the next twelve months."

"Yay!" Anna squealed and jumped to her feet. She rounded the table with surprising speed and launched on top of Elsa. "Thank you!"

Elsa's reply was muffled in Anna's hug. "But don't nag me about it."

"When do I ever nag?" Anna grinned, because although she couldn't see it she just knew Elsa was rolling her eyes. She finally let Elsa go, still grinning. "I'm so glad you're feeling better."

"I'm glad to be feeling better." It was true. Elsa had grown accustomed to life being uncomfortable and laced with fear. Spending time without those things was strange, and sometimes the unfamiliarity bothered her, but she was starting to like the feeling.

"Don't forget to eat," Anna said, trotting back to her seat and continuing with dinner.

"I ate breakfast."

"You threw it up."

Elsa stared. "You weren't supposed to know that."

Anna shrugged. "Just eat."

Elsa picked at her food again. She hadn't been hungry in so long, it felt odd to even be eating. The black voice snapped at her, _see? Normal people can eat. You're not normal._

_I'm fine._ A trickle of frost escaped from her.

Anna didn't notice.

Elsa forced herself to take a few deep breaths. _You're not going to take this away from me. I'm trying, and I'm doing better._

_You're lying, and you'll never be better._

_It doesn't matter what you think._

_I'm you. I matter._

"Elsa?"

"Yes?"

"You okay?" Anna tilted her head to one side. "You look a little preoccupied."

"I'm fine." _I'm not._

"Okay. So, what're you doing after dinner?" Anna watched Elsa carefully; she was dividing her food into tiny morsels that probably wouldn't sustain a bumble bee, but at least she was eating.

"I'm going to relax. Kai told me if I tried to work he was going to set fire to my notes. I think he was joking, but I'm not sure if I want to risk it."

Anna giggled. "He probably wasn't joking." She was thrilled, though, that Elsa was going to take some time to do absolutely nothing.

"What about you?" It had been a long time since they had had a menial conversation like this. It felt good. Elsa dared a bigger bite of food as she listened to Anna talk.

"I'm reading. And I'll probably take Bae for a walk, since he spent most of the last two days indoors." She really hoped Elsa wouldn't ask what she was reading.

Elsa didn't. "Is Bae okay? I know he wasn't well while I . . . was resting."

"Collapsed," Anna corrected. "He's fine now. Just like you."

_I'm not fine yet. I'm trying._ "Yeah."

They finished in silence, then Anna made a quick escape back to her room, back to the letters.

Bae barked happily as she barrelled into her room and closed the door.

"Hi, Bae." Anna twisted the key to lock the door, then immediately unlocked it because it just felt wrong. She went back to the letters. "Ready to find out what happened to Elsa?"

She wasn't sure if she was ready, but she had to know. Elsa needed help, Elsa had always needed help, and Anna was the only one who understood her. And the more she knew, the more she understood.


	9. Chapter 9 - The First Time

Chapter 9 – The First Time

**The chapter everyone's been waiting for. Or not.**

**WARNING: This chapter contains (Elsa's first) attempted suicide. Long, tedious author's note posted at the end.**

Anna stared at the letter in her hands. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. She couldn't believe that this had happened, right under her nose, and no one had told her. No one had let slip the tiniest of details.

Even Elsa had not said anything.

Anna needed to find Elsa. She needed to know that Elsa was safe. Because she was reliving the most terrifying moment of her life over again. Nothing compared to the day she had watched her sister try to kill herself. It still haunted her dreams, she often felt a twinge of terror and just needed to put her arms around Elsa and make sure she was still there.

And now it was happening again.

She ran from her room, ran to Elsa's, because she was gripped by a sudden sense of desperation and she needed to see Elsa, talk to her, just _look_ at her.

Elsa jumped at Anna's sudden intrusion; she had been sitting under the window reading. She lowered her book when she saw Anna's stricken face, and without even asking what was wrong, the temperature in the room slowly started dropping.

"Have you read this?" Anna asked, her voice wavering. She held the letter out; the paper was crinkling due to Anna's violent shuddering and death grip.

Elsa stood up and took the paper cautiously. "What is it? Why are you so . . ." She only needed to read a few lines. She knew this day to the second, every agonizing moment was etched into her mind.

Elsa felt the world stop for a nauseating second, then she was breathing again and shaking worse than Anna.

This wasn't supposed to happen. Anna was never meant to see this. Elsa was never meant to go through this again. She was better, she was so much better, and, and . . .

Elsa didn't need to read the whole thing. She had lived it. The paper fell to the floor, her shaking hands unable to hold it.

And the memories came slamming back.

* * *

><p><em>The wind started howling outside. There were clouds covering the sky.<em>

The change in weather only made it worse; she felt the panic rising with the wind, because laid out before her was a terrifying reality that her powers were so much stronger than she had thought. And something this powerful . . . if it was out of control . . .

_We ran to her room, Kai was already there. The door was still closed, but the ice was spreading out from underneath it._

Each roar of wind twisted inside her, she felt it ripping at her, pounding against her skin from the inside and she just wanted it to get out. _Out, out, out!_ There had to be a way, she had to find some escape from this storm inside of her.

_The door was frozen shut. The wind was rattling the windows. I could hear it, and I thought it was raining._

The ice around her was growing, spiking with her pitiful sobs. Elsa leant her back against the wall, choking on her tears and despair, and it hurt _so much_. Everything, everywhere, the storm inside raged and swelled, pressing painfully into her gut. Her throat hurt, her eyes hurt, her heart was aching, and she just knew she was going to throw up because she felt so sick-

_It was snow. There was a snowstorm outside, in the middle of summer. When Agdar figured out what it was, he stopped trying to open the door. He looked at me, and I suddenly knew why there were those plans on his desk. Because she was so strong, and gripped by such despair, that she could harm everyone._

_I was more afraid she would harm herself._

Elsa coughed, tasting salty tears and bile mixed together and then, finally, she couldn't take the swirling inside her stomach and doubled over, retching feebly. A few viscous drops hit the floor, but she hadn't eaten all day, and the convulsion just caused more pain, and in turn that made her feel sick again and she heaved and heaved, throwing up nothing but air, and it offered no relief.

_Agdar took an axe to the door handle. It was iced shut from the inside. He told Kai to keep Anna away. I just stood there, feeling useless. The snow was still beating against the windows._

_I felt like the biggest failure in the world. How had I let my little girl get to this?_

Elsa clenched her jaw shut, swallowing several times, and even that hurt, it burned her throat, choked her, and she ended up coughing, over and over again, on her knees in the snow. The ice under her skin was screaming, and painful, and pressed tightly up against her from the inside, with an unimaginable pressure that made her want to tear her own skin off and just get the ice out.

She dropped her face into her hands, her breaths ragged and shallow, and she could hear the ice changing around her. It cracked, snapped, hissed, and each time it moved it felt like a part of her was moving too. Elsa didn't know which way was up, which way was down, she was consumed by the blizzard and all she wanted was to get rid of it.

Any way possible.

A spike of ice jabbed against her shoulder, the jolt of cold pain made her look up.

_Finally, Agdar broke through the ice. We both rushed into her room. It was covered in ice and snow, like a miniature winter. The whole room consumed by her powers in a matter of minutes. I had no idea she was strong as that._

"Elsa, stop!" Agdar had to yell over the blizzard around them, one hand up to shield his eyes.

She was a huddled form on the floor, surrounded by pointed icicles, pointing _inwards_, _towards_ her, and a few drops of bright red blood standing out in stark contrast to the white of the room. The ice was ever changing, pushing through her clothes and into her flesh, slowly and torturously, and she wasn't doing anything about it.

She heard her father's voice, the ice jumped involuntarily, more tips pressed into her, and Elsa's cry was whipped away by the wind.

"Elsa!"

_She looked up, her whole body shaking. Her cheeks were streaked in tears; her eyes were red and desperate. She looked so haunted, and pale, like a ghost just wishing it were no longer of this world._

Her mouth was slightly open, because she couldn't breathe and this was the only way to get in any air, and because she was still gasping and sobbing and crying in between heaving attempts to vomit, and blood continued dripping, and ice continued pressing into her.

_Agdar stepped towards her. She reacted as though terrified, scrambling to her feet and backing away before he could get close to her. The icicles around her scratched at her. I could see more blood starting to flow._

The thinner spikes didn't hurt as much, Elsa noted in some recess of her mind still retaining information. She noted it, in case there was a later. They broke and snapped as she stumbled back, until her back hit the wall, and then she was shuddering and dripping blood from scratches and cuts all around her arms and back. And where the blood flowed, the pain lessened, and the storm slowed.

"Don't come near me!"

_It wasn't Elsa's voice it. It was the voice of someone so broken down that they couldn't even speak. She sounded as though the world had been dropped on her. She spoke as though she had no air in her lungs, no life inside._

_She sounded dead._

"Elsa, don't do this," Agdar said, holding out a hand, taking another tiny step forward. "Love, listen to me-"

"I just want it to stop!" She screamed, both hands going to her hair. She gripped fistfuls of blond locks. "_Please_ make it stop!"

It wouldn't, it would never stop. The ice was still there, the pain was still there. 'It' was life, and she couldn't stop that, could she –

Could she?

_She stared at us both, with an expression of pure terror. At herself, I think. Maybe because of the storm around us, in the middle of summer. She had her hands in her hair, and blood on her dress. Then she let her hair go._

"Elsa!" Agdar bellowed over the wind, his eyes locked onto Elsa's. She stayed where she was, absolutely still, her hair coming loose from its bun and whipping around her, stinging into her eyes, sticking to the tears on her cheeks. "Stop this, right now!"

"I can't," she screamed back, and the snow and ice grew higher. "I can't stop it; do you think I would be going through this if I _could_? Do you think I want this? _I don't want this_. I don't want any of this. I don't want anything! Leave me alone and just let me-"

She tugged at her gloves, clawing them off and throwing them to the floor. And once her hands were uncovered blue magic swirled around them, no longer contained, and Elsa gripped a wisp of light and it formed into an icy dagger in her grasp.

The blood pouring was already easing her pain, and logic dictated that more blood would equal to less pain. Finally, it would all just stop.

_I saw a knife in her hand. I swear my heart stopped. The world stopped. Surely, I thought, there was no way Elsa would ever want to harm herself. I knew she was upset a lot, and I knew that the sadness sometimes held her down, but this . . . I didn't know what to think._

_Barely a second passed and she was already moving that knife. And thank god for Agdar, because he surged towards her and it distracted her just enough that the blade didn't cut her wrist._

The knife slashed into Elsa's palm, her body jerked back as her father approached. Blood dripped, and ice jumped, and then there was a transparent wall between Elsa and the King, and Elsa's petrified face was staring at him through ice.

He tried to reach around it, to hold out a reassuring hand, but Elsa screamed again, and more ice sprang up and blocked her off from any contact. "You can't touch me! Just leave me!"

"Darling, that's not going to happen."

"I don't want to be here! I don't, I don't, I don't," she sank to the floor again, cradling the injured hand against her chest. More blood dripped, and _god_, it felt so much better than keeping it all inside. A desperate sob broke from her. "You have to go."

The blizzard was dying around them, the ice was settling.

_Elsa stayed on her knees in the snow, surrounded by pillars of ice. I don't know if she was trapped inside, or if we were trapped outside. But, definitely, someone in that room was trapped._

She cried, huge, body-shaking wails, and squeezed her eyes shut so she didn't have to see the mess that she had become.

Agdar edged closer, until it was just ice between them, and he knelt down. "Elsa. Please, look at me."

She didn't, she wrapped her body around her injured hand, and sitting like that made it hard to breathe. She choked on the air again, it stifled her sobbing for only a moment, then the crying was back.

_Kai called me away, because Anna was asking what was going on. I left the two of them together, on the floor. The wind had stopped. I walked away, and all I could hear was the sound of Elsa crying._

* * *

><p>Her heart was going so fast she felt like she might pass out. Her chest closed, she fought in air. <em>No, no, no, Anna mustn't know this, what will she think of me . . .<em> Her knees buckled, and Elsa hit the floor next to the forgotten sheet of paper.

She could hear ice crackling again, she brought her hands close to her chest, closed her eyes because maybe that would help trap the ice inside. "I'm so sorry Anna, I'm sorry. I'm trying, I'm trying, I _swear_, and I'm getting better . . ."

Anna was still breathing hard, still torn between relief that Elsa was right here in front of her, relatively sound in mind and body, and numbing terror because how could this have happened? How could Elsa have done this to herself?

"Elsa," Anna dropped to the floor next to her, because her legs were suddenly weak too, and the world was hazy. "Elsa, listen to me. It's okay. I . . . It's okay."

She didn't know what else to say, but it wasn't okay, none of this was okay. This was the nightmare Anna had been hidden from. This was the one secret Elsa wanted to remain hidden. And, oh god, Anna wished it had.

Elsa was still shaking, her breathing erratic, every single burning emotion snapping around her body at once.

"I can't do this," Elsa whispered, eyes still clenched closed and both hands tucked against her chest, because Anna was near and she had to keep her safe. And she had been doing better, but now it felt like a cover up, because the thoughts and the feelings had never left.

"Listen to yourself. You _need_ a break. You need to rest. You need to get away from this all." _And I need to figure out how I feel._ Because this changed things. Oh, how this changed the way Anna saw her sister. That pinnacle of strength, that person who Anna was certain could overcome anything . . . here she was on the floor in the snow, and bitter burning bile was rising in Anna's throat. How was she meant to feel? What was she supposed to think, knowing that at some point concise, calculating Elsa had been so gripped by irrationality that she had tried to tear her own body apart?

"I am the Queen," and those were her father's words, not hers, but it was her burden to bear, her responsibility, her purpose, her fixation. She had to say it, because the person in the letter was certainly not a Queen, and Elsa's tenuous hold on her sanity was tearing loose. The door to the darkest corner of her mind had broken open, and the darkness was escaping. It was drowning all the light. It was staining the good memories. "I am the Queen . . ."

Her voice broke, shattered like the fragile ice she surrounded herself with. Anna was talking, far away and vague, and Elsa couldn't focus. She stared at the letter on the floor, feeling the wounds from the past open up again.

The memories were bright red.

"Elsa, please," Anna said, pleading and distraught. "Can we please just take a break? I need it, and so do you. I need some time." _I've been holding you up, and this last door is just too much. I'm breaking, but we can't both break. I need you to let go before I shatter._

"Can't just leave . . ." Elsa's voice trembled. "Have to . . . do better . . ." _I'm trying, I'm _trying_ . . ._

The scars ached, her heart burned, her stomach dropped. She shouldn't have come to this. She should have just done it, just killed herself, and then she wouldn't be here with such heart ache and such hollow despair.

The ice crackled, warped, and Elsa wanted to surround herself in it and never again worry about anything.

"Please. Please don't hurt yourself. Elsa! Look at me!" It didn't sound like Anna. It sounded like someone very young and very scared.

Elsa forced herself to look up, forced herself to look past the vivid flickering thoughts and the overwhelming chanting in her head_. Finish the job. Just do it. Do it now, right now, it's so easy and it feels so good . . ._

Her eyes locked onto Anna's, and Elsa felt her heart plummet even further, and hitch around a black lump of anguish. There was supposed to be hope in Anna's eyes. There was meant to be eternal optimism. There was meant to be joy and sunshine and fire.

Elsa was staring at her sister, and it was like looking in a mirror.

She didn't know she could hurt any more, but seeing what she had done to Anna – and it was her fault, it always was, because she had failed to keep this secret and spare Anna the same agony she lived with every day – made something else crack inside her.

"Anna." That wasn't her voice. It was rough with tears and weariness. "I'm so sorry. I don't want to hurt you."

"Well," Anna said, and then she had to take a moment to breathe because it was so hard right now. "You did. How could you have done this?"

Anna wasn't meant to be Elsa's reflection. Anna was the sun, and Elsa was the moon, and the moon wasn't meant to be reflected in the sun. Elsa couldn't let Anna be like her, not for a single, depressing second. Anna deserved so much more, Elsa wanted so much more for her.

"Don't leave me," Anna begged. "Don't make me be alone again. I can't take any more doors and any more death. I just want you . . ." She broke off, because finally the tears spilled over, and the sight of them made Elsa's heart hitch again.

_Kill yourself_, the black voice snapped. _Then you don't have to see her suffer. That's tearing you apart; you hate this moment right here. Get rid of it._

_No . . . no, look at her. I did this. I made her like this. _Elsa kept her eyes on Anna, looking unblinkingly into the endless blue-green that used to be alive and bright. She wanted that to come back, she wanted Anna to be sunshine and happiness and smiles. Anything but _this_.

"Anna. I won't leave you." _Death will be better_, the voice said. _It'll be you and your parents, just like it used to be. Just like before, the same before that you've held onto with such vehemence so far._ "I . . ."

Before? Just Mama and Papa. No Anna. She remembered that. She remembered years of that. And lately, she would have done almost anything to get that back, because she knew those years, they were safe and familiar, and she hated change and uncertainly. Now, _right now_, she knew she couldn't do that again.

Death might lead to her parents, but life led to Anna. And that was something Elsa desired even more. She needed to see Anna smile again. She needed Anna to be the ray of light and hope that she looked to every day.

"Anna. I can't see you broken like me. I'd kill myself before I let anyone harm you." It wasn't a comfort. "I need the sun to shine. And you are my sun. Please. I need you, too. More than you need me."

Anna looked confused.

"What I carry . . . all my burdens. They'll fall to you, without me. And then you'll be like me. And I can't have that for you, Anna, I just can't. I wouldn't wish my life on someone who I love more than anyone else in the world. I need you to be _you_."

"I . . . what?"

"The world is a better place with you in it. My life is better with you in. I lost sight of that . . . because I couldn't see you behind closed doors. And the only way to make sure you stay _you_ . . . is for me to be here with you."

Anna's lip quivered. "Do you . . . really mean that . . .?"

Elsa unfurled her hands, slowly, in case the ice forced its way out. But that nagging need to freeze was giving way to something else. Something warmer. Something thawing. She wiped the tears off Anna's cheeks. "Yes. I need you."

The tenseness in her chest lightened a bit, the sick knot in her stomach felt just a tiny bit looser. The ice quieted.

She looked Anna dead in the eye. "I believe in you."

It felt so right, and warm, and wonderful, because finally she was the one offering comfort. Finally, she was the one easing the pain of another. Finally, she was the older sister she was supposed to be. She was getting this right, and it felt so good. It burned into the hollow black pit in the centre of her chest.

"I've always believed in you," Anna murmured.

Elsa moved a little closer, put her arms around Anna and drew her close. She felt Anna tense for a fraction of a second, overwhelmed by emotion, because this is all she had been waiting for for years. It was Elsa who was reaching out to her, who was pulling her close, who was shielding her from the horrors of the world.

"Even now? Even when you know every dark secret of my life?" She spoke into Anna's hair, muffling the words slightly, feeling the shame in each syllable.

"More now than yesterday. Because you've overcome so much more than I understood. Now I know you." It would take time, Anna knew, to really come to terms with this, and she was still shocked and appalled that Elsa would ever have attempted something so . . . desperate. But that was a conversation for later, right now was a time to let herself be held and soothed and revel in the fact that Elsa was there for her.

Forever.

The sun was pouring through the window and slowly melting the ice around them.

* * *

><p><strong>This has nothing to do with the story. Some of you know I've been having some problems lately, and I've just been plugging away at life. There have been no author's notes because I have had nothing of value to say, and I was just uploading this story because I felt I had to keep going, even though my heart wasn't in it. Anywho, shortly after chapter 4, I had a minor meltdown when I realised that almost everything Elsa says in that chapter I have said recently.<strong>

**So now I'm getting help and taking medication for depression and insomnia, and if the next few chapters are a little garbled I do apologise, but I have no idea where my mind is at right now. If I royally screw up this story PLEASE let me know, so I can make changes when needed.**

**SpicedGold**


	10. Chapter 10 - In Forever

Chapter 10 – In Forever

**First of all, thank you to everyone who reviewed and PMed with encouragement. I really do appreciate it. Seeing as my insomnia has decided to stick around, I figured I'd use it to my advantage and squeeze out another chapter.**

Anna woke first in the night, something she couldn't remember ever happening before. She woke in a cold sweat with her heart pounding, and immediately grappled with the covers to try to find Elsa, to make sure that she was fine and asleep and not bleeding.

Anna sat up, still panting from the terrors of the night, looking searchingly for her sister.

She was in a beam of moonlight, sleeping as she always did, one hand twisted in the sheets, a frown set on her face.

Anna took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself, but she was still struck with a vivid image of Elsa cutting her own flesh, encouraging herself to bleed, trying to die. Anna flopped onto her back, and stared at the ceiling, swallowing hard and trying to think of something else.

Elsa was perfectly safe, she was sleeping soundly, and she wasn't hurt. Anna told herself that, over and over again. When her heart settled, she moved a bit closer to Elsa, draping an arm across her just to ground herself, to make sure that Elsa stayed where she was.

"You okay?" Elsa murmured, without moving and without opening her eyes.

"I dreamt I lost you." Anna admitted, and now that she knew Elsa was awake she edged even closer.

"Hm." The corner of Elsa's mouth turned up. "Do you want to see what I dreamed of?"

"Yeah." Anna propped herself up on one elbow.

Elsa still had her eyes closed; she released the sheets and turned her hand palm up. Blue light swirled, forming a few delicate snowflakes, and then the blue morphed into an icy snowman, and two children.

Anna smiled, and dropped onto the bed again, cushioning her head on Elsa's arm. "You dream about me?"

"All the time."

"And you dream about your magic?"

"Quite a lot."

"Good dreams?"

"Not all of them."

Anna closed her eyes again, feeling a bit more secure. There were thoughts behind her eyes, thoughts that she wished weren't there. Thoughts of blood and fear and no way out. Thoughts that made her want to keep her eyes open, and face the dark, rather than face her mind.

This was the darkness Elsa lived in.

"Elsa?"

"Hm?"

"What do you do, when these thoughts take over and you really want them to go away?"

Elsa opened one eye, the sleepy blue clashing with the bright wakefulness of Anna's eyes. "I can't make them go away. They're always there."

"How do you sleep at night?" Blood dripping onto snow. Collapsing to the floor, screaming for everything to just go away. Cold ice tearing into flesh.

"With you at my side."

* * *

><p>The world had definitely changed.<p>

There was a darker side to Elsa that Anna had brought to light. She understood, even if she didn't agree with, that second time Elsa had tried to kill herself. There was a logical progression to it; Anna had seen it first hand, she had helped Elsa through it, and she had been secure in the knowledge that rational, level-headed Elsa wouldn't do that again.

But that letter . . . there was no rationality in it.

Anna couldn't believe that Elsa would ever act in such a way: without rhyme or reason, without even thinking or planning. Elsa didn't _do_ that, she never did anything without cautiously anticipating every possible outcome. Anna was discovering the uneasy truth: Elsa had a wild and uncontrolled side to her as well, the same sort of frivolous spark that made Anna do stupid things like marry men she just met, or set sleds on fire, or kick snowmen in the head.

The only difference was, Anna let her crazy out constantly, letting small, everyday things lead to stupid decisions and unplanned actions with no regard to consequences. Elsa didn't do that, she kept all her craziness bottled up inside until it was too much to take and it exploded spectacularly.

Anna had seen that irrational side to Elsa only once before: at the coronation, when Elsa had made the completely idiotic decision to flee Arendelle. It was not a level-headed move; it had been madness to even attempt it. But she _had_, and that had proved that Elsa was capable of spontaneous, non-consequential action as well.

That scared Anna.

What if Elsa did it again? What if something pushed her over the edge, and she made a snap decision, made the _wrong_ decision?

Anna knew _she_ would never be able to kill herself; it just wasn't in her nature. And she had always believed that Elsa attempting it had been a fluke of some sort, a once-off happening that could be brushed aside and written off as a lapse in judgement.

But . . . but that wasn't the case. The truth was that Elsa was just unpredictable as Anna, and more than once her unpredictability had endangered her life. She was a time bomb, slowly ticking down to the next emotional upheaval. Anna had no idea when it would happen, how it would happen, but all she feared was that Elsa might just be third time lucky.

"I'm scared you're going to do again." Anna announced, placing both hands on Elsa's desk and leaning over it, the sheer intensity of her stare enough to make Elsa look up.

"Do what?" It had been only two days since Elsa collapsed, and she was working just as hard, although she hadn't protested when Kai had shown up at the door and told her to stop, _now_, and go for a walk or a nap or something that didn't involve working.

"Try to kill yourself."

Elsa paused, thinking hard. She heaved a sigh. "You trusted my word that I wouldn't do that again."

"And I do trust you. I do. But . . . but sometimes you lose control, and terrible things happen when you do. I'm so scared that it'll happen again and I won't be quick enough, or . . ." She gulped. "Or you'll be quicker than me."

Elsa's gaze dropped downwards, weighed by guilt and shame. "I don't know what to say to you. I'm not going to try it again; I'm doing better, Anna."

"I need time. To trust you more. To get used to this. Do you . . . do you know how this changes things?"

Elsa shook her head slowly. "No. Everything's still the same for me."

"I used to think you were perfect. I mean, look at you. You can handle anything. You always know what to do, and what to say. And then I read that letter-" Here, Elsa flinched, because this was the reason she wanted that secret to remain as one. "And suddenly you're not so perfect anymore. And everything I thought about you is wrong. And . . . and I suddenly know that everyone can fall, and everyone can fail. You're supposed to be here for me, forever. Now I'm scared that you'll leave one day and never come back."

"I . . . I wouldn't do that."

"No," Anna shook her head, half angry and half distraught. "Mama and Papa said the same thing. They _said_ they were coming back. They said they wouldn't be gone long. But they didn't come back. They left us, Elsa. And now I keep thinking you'll do the same thing. And don't tell me you won't because I know you've tried to, _twice_!"

Elsa stared at her, her eyes as bright with pain as Anna's, and she kept silent for a long time. "Anna . . ." She had to pause for a second, to breathe, because Anna's insecurity and pain was reaching between them and easing into her heart. "You . . . You're afraid I'll leave one day and never come back?"

"That's the only thing that scares me. Losing you. And I know you're capable of it, and now I don't know what to think about you." Anna looked tense and fidgety, and this role reversal made a warm surge of love flare up in Elsa's chest.

Because she wasn't alone with her fears, and her thoughts, and her decisions. Someone was with her. Someone understood. Elsa closed her eyes briefly. Anna had fears too. She had things that weighed her down, things that couldn't go away or be resolved overnight. Neither of them were alone, through good or bad.

And finally, Elsa could offer Anna some of the comfort she had taken for years, with no way to return it. She could finally be the big sister she was supposed to be, and alleviate her little sister's fears. "Anna."

Anna looked at her hopefully, wishing that Elsa would say something, anything, to let Anna know that the nightmares and the thoughts that plagued her now would not be there forever.

"For the first time in forever," Elsa said, locking her blue eyes onto Anna's. "I finally understand." _You're just like me, and I know how to be me. And I can teach you how to live with it._ "For the first time in forever, we can fix this hand in hand."

There was a flicker of recognition lighting in Anna's eyes, and she grasped at Elsa's hand, to hold onto something and remind herself that this was real.

"You don't have to live in fear," Elsa continued, squeezing Anna's hand gently. "Because for the first time in forever, I will be right here."

There was still doubt, there was still fear. Everyone fears losing the thing they love the most.

"You don't have to be afraid_." I'm scared enough for both us, and I'll get us through it._ "We can work this out together." _I know we can, because I believe in you._ "We can make the sun shine bright. And everything will be alright."

There was silence, and the tense lines in Anna's shoulders relaxed slightly. There was a trace of wonder in her voice. "I didn't know you were listening. To me."

"I've always been listening. When there's no light to see by, you learn to hear better."

Anna sidled around Elsa's desk and gave her a quick pull to get her to her feet. Without warming or waiting, she pulled Elsa close, pressing her head into her shoulder and wrapping her arms around her body. Elsa leant her chin on Anna's shoulder, the way she liked to do, and for the first time in ages didn't just hold Anna; she gripped at her fiercely, tightly, as though she might never let her go.

* * *

><p>"You requested that I register all complaints in private with you."<p>

Elsa swallowed hard, trying to maintain an air of calm. But she was frazzled and unsettled by Anna's newfound fears, and the aching, wrenching turmoil in her stomach at having to relive the worst day of her life. And her breakfast was churning around, as though sensing her discomfort and deciding it would be better off somewhere else.

She swallowed again, because she wasn't going to throw up just because Benedict was standing in front of her with an expression so dour one might think she had set Arendelle alight. "Yes?"

He sat down in front of her, narrow eyes piercing, and she had to fight the urge to shrink back. "You're not in control. Everyone can see it."

Her stomach dropped. "What? No, I . . ." She stopped herself before she could splutter, and took a deep breath. _Get it together. Show him what you're capable of. _"I have everything under control."

"You keep saying that. But all you're doing now is hiding behind your sister. Arendelle needs a leader, someone who will stand up for herself. Someone who doesn't need twenty minutes of deep breathing before she can walk into a meeting."

_I only take ten minutes._ "Have you found an issue with the way I run Arendelle?" She was falsely calm, drifting dangerously close to _conceal, don't feel._

"You've broken down twice before," Benedict said, gruffly. "Who's to say it won't be worse the next time it happens? What happens to Arendelle if you are too ill to watch over it? What if you keep getting worse, instead of better?"

She paused, because those very fears had crossed her mind before. "I . . . I'm doing better. Not only am I trying, but I'm succeeding."

"You're obsessed," he hissed. "You are obsessed with topping everyone who has ever been in power here."

"Is there something wrong with that?" Elsa answered sharply. "Or are you just worried that I'll be the best ruler that Arendelle has ever seen, and you won't like because I'm a woman?" It was false bravado as well; she didn't believe a word she was saying. Certainly, she wanted to be better. But the best? That seemed out of reach.

"I'm worried that your obsession will turn into something dangerous. I'm concerned that you're going to take this pursuit of perfection too far, just like you take everything too far. You have no idea where to draw the line. You go for all or nothing."

"Then it'll be all or nothing for the good of Arendelle," Elsa sniped back. But she feared the same thing. She needed something in her life to be her anchor. She had let go of _conceal, don't feel._ Then she had gripped onto _I can handle this, I can be better._

What would be next?

"You're setting yourself impossible goals," Benedict said. "You're going to fall short of them."

"No, I won't." Her voice wavered slightly. The black voice snapped at her, _You're lying._

_No, I'm not. I've got Anna, and we can handle this._

"You've seen everything I've got planned," Elsa said. "It's all figured out, it's doable. I will not fail at this."_ Not again. Not at something else. I've failed enough._

"You're aiming too high," he warned. "You're fixated on being perceived as the best."

"And I will be." She didn't know where this new pride had come from, but she was going to keep hold of it for as long as she could. She lifted her chin slightly. "I've made enough mistakes. There will be no more." _I have to be strong. I have to be here, for Anna._

Benedict fixed her with a glare. "I'll be watching you."

"I know." That actually made Elsa feel a bit better. "And you're going to see me rise." _Because I can't possibly fall any further_. "You're dismissed."

Benedict did not look amused. "I haven't finished yet."

"As of yet, you haven't said anything of value. All you've done so far is try to bully me into feeling bad about myself, but I _am_ getting better, and I do have everything handled. When you have a legitimate complaint and not just a gripe about our differing personalities, come back and see me. Until then, I'm going to be doing what I was born to do: rule Arendelle."

She met his glare with one of her own, her confident expression belying what she was feeling. _Please leave, please leave me alone. I'm trying. But I need time._ Her stomach was still churning, all her anxiety warring with the need to do better, to change for the better.

To change for Anna.

Benedict rose from his chair. "I'll be back."

"Not if I can help it." There was a spark starting inside her, a burning desire to prove him wrong – to prove everyone, including herself, wrong. She really wanted to do better now, it was a surprisingly persistent feeling that flared up unexpectedly and drove her forwards.

Maybe, with that very last door open, she had left the darkness behind and was finally starting to agree with her own thoughts again.

It was thrilling, and nauseating. Benedict left without a word, leaving Elsa sitting at her desk, with her chest heaving, because she was coming to the stunning realisation that recovery might be within her grasp. She wanted to change. She wanted her thoughts to change.

It wouldn't happen fast, and she assumed it wouldn't be easy, but she was willing to forge forward. She had stagnated on the road to recovery, lost in the many twists it had taken her on, but now she was ready to keep going.

She was ready to believe in magic again.

The churning in her stomach finally became too much to ignore, and Elsa bolted from her study, just barely making it to her bathroom before breakfast decided it would be better off facing the world without her. She let out a faint groan, because this was becoming far too much to handle.

She was so frustrated with herself, because everything was going right. Life was finally taking her on the right path, and she was still reacting as though the world was ending. Anna still loved her, despite everything. Anna was always going to be there for her. Elsa finally had the chance to be the older sister she had been dying to be for so many years.

But for some agonizing reason, even though the world made sense and life wasn't an endless curse, and being a Queen wasn't her own personal incarceration, she was still feeling slightly hollow inside.

She hadn't kept any food down in days; her stomach was aching all the time. She flopped into a rather undignified heap on the floor, breathing deeply, hands shaking ever so slightly.

_What is wrong with me?_ She thought, blinking back unwelcome tears. _Don't cry, not now, not when you've got everything going your way._

She drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, resting her forehead on her knees and closing her eyes. _I'm trying. I'm trying so hard._

But her body just wasn't agreeing with her. And that was worrying her, because it seemed like she was heading towards the slow, agonizing death that Anna feared so much.

"Get it together," she muttered._ Don't break Anna's heart. You promised you would be here for her._

"Elsa?"

Elsa's head shot up, she glanced behind her to see Anna in the doorway, looking slightly pale, one hand held over her heart. "Hi."

"Are you . . . is everything . . . what . . ." Anna was stumbling for words, so afraid that she was walking in on a situation she didn't want to see. "I . . ."

"I'm fine," Elsa said, trying to sound reassuring and failing utterly. She gulped, because the blatant lie in her words made her feel sick again. _Don't throw up in front of Anna._

"Are you getting sick again?" Anna asked. "Bae freaked out. I thought something had happened to you."

_You thought I was going to hurt myself, because you've seen my demons and now they keep coming to you._ Elsa hesitated. "Um . . ." _You scared her._ Her stomach heaved again, because she couldn't protect Anna from the rampant nightmares that had taken over her life. "I'm sorry."

"How long has this been going on?" Anna asked, tentatively coming a little bit closer. "How long has it been since you even ate?"

"I had breakfast."

"You don't have breakfast any more. It's past lunch. Come and eat."

"No, Anna," she said, bringing the back of her hand to her mouth, because the mere thought of trying to eat sent her into a panicked spiral. "No, no, please don't."

"I'm worried, Elsa," Anna said, sinking onto the floor next to her sister. "I . . . I know what you're capable of now."

"Do you really think I'll starve myself to death?"

Anna fixed her with such a glare that Elsa's question no longer sounded ludicrous.

Elsa sighed. "I'm sorry."

"We can have soup." Anna offered. "Maybe that'll be better. But . . . but I have to see you eat."

"You don't need to micromanage me, Anna." Elsa said, but she couldn't bring herself to look Anna in the eye when she said it.

"You said you wouldn't wish your life on me."

Elsa looked at her, surprised.

Anna's lips were pressed together in a thin line. "I don't want to live every day worrying about you. I don't want to wake up every morning and wonder if you'll wake up, too. I know you're getting better, no one else knows it as well as I do. But until you are . . . for a few weeks at least . . . I need to know these things. I need to _see_ these things."

Elsa stared at her, guilt warring with the anxiety.

"We can't take a holiday together if you're not well."

Well, _that_ was a conflict of interests, Elsa thought bitterly.

"Come and eat," Anna said softly, tugging on one of Elsa's wrists. "Please? Just a little bit."

_You're scaring her._ Elsa got to her feet; Anna didn't let her arm go. "Okay."

"Anyway, queens don't throw up."

"I don't have much choice in the matter," Elsa muttered darkly.

Anna slowed slightly in her mission of dragging Elsa to the kitchens. "I think you might." She spoke so quietly that Elsa wasn't sure if she had spoken.

"What?"

"I think you're too tense. You're freaking out over the littlest things, and obsessing about things, and not sleeping. I think your body is just . . . confused. And really, really stressed. Do you think . . . maybe that's part of it?" Anna bit her lip, eying Elsa as though the Queen might take offense.

Elsa took a moment to process all that, because it made so much sense. "I . . . perhaps."

"You need to learn to relax. I think that's the problem. For all of this. You don't know how to switch off."

Kai had given her a similar lecture.

"We're gonna have to find you some ways to chill," Anna continued, blissfully unaware that Elsa was making a face at her unintentional pun. "What relaxes you?"

_Lately? Not a whole lot._ Elsa finally extracted her wrist from Anna's grip, and tangled their hands together. "Spending time with you."

"That's a start," Anna said, throwing a grin over her shoulder. "After we've eaten, we'll just hang out."

Elsa couldn't quite muster a grin, but she did return the smile. "I'd like that."

**As with last chapter, let me know if this seems really off and in need of a sober rewrite. Thank you.**

**SpicedGold**


	11. Chapter 11 - Change

Chapter 11 – Change

**So, this is the second last chapter, and the last flashback. Let me know if it's not up to par.**

She was counting the days. She was up to fourteen.

Fourteen days since the last time Anna had knocked on her door. Last time it had been twelve. The time before that had been nine.

Elsa sat in absolute silence, barely daring to breathe, eyes on the clock, because Anna was usually up by now. Surely she would come past here, and knock on the door?

Surely she wanted to build a snowman?

But the day passed, and Anna didn't.

Elsa waited, until the sky turned dark and woke up, but the endless silence continued.

Her father came to her on day fifteen, but Elsa turned away from him, because he was not the person she wanted to see. She stared out the window, lips pressed together.

"Elsa. Love, you have to eat something."

"I'm not hungry." That had been all she had said for days. There didn't seem to be anything else to say. There didn't seem to be a point to anything.

"Do you want to talk?" Agdar offered gently.

"Yes." Elsa blinked, her voice hard. "But not to you." She didn't care if the words hurt. She didn't care if someone ached the way she did.

"Elsa . . ."

She answered with stubborn silence, never taking her eyes off the window. She could outlast any silence.

Her father tried a different tactic. "I had a meeting with the council today. They were impressed with what you have done so far. Did you finish?"

"Two days ago." It didn't matter. Nothing mattered.

Agdar didn't stay long. There wasn't much point – Elsa wasn't talking.

Elsa heard the door close; she turned around to face it, and just listened. She listened for the sounds of Anna walking past. Maybe stopping? Hopefully stopping.

Elsa heard her sister's footsteps, and her heart jumped. She ran to the door, hands hesitating over the handle, holding her breath because otherwise she couldn't hear anything over her rapid breathing. She heard the footsteps hesitate.

A pause.

Elsa's heart sped up again, anguished anticipation burning, because she knew Anna was standing right there. She would knock soon.

Wouldn't she?

But the footsteps started again, and walked away.

Elsa's stomach plummeted, her breathing resumed in ragged and broken gasps.

"Anna," she whispered, hands shaking. "Please . . . don't you want to build a snowman?"

It was the middle of summer, there was no snow, and Anna wasn't a little child anymore. She wasn't going to knock on the door every day in pursuit of false hope.

Elsa's parents both came to see her that night. She had never felt more alone.

At seventeen days, something broke. Some shard of ice connecting Elsa to her self-control snapped under the sheer pressure of her emotions. She screamed at her father, just narrowly avoiding icing the entire study. She wanted something to change. She needed her life to change.

The ice bubbled and built, whipping wildly around inside her, seeking any opening in the fragile armour she had surrounded herself in. Just a little crack in her conviction to conceal, and all that terrifying power would escape.

"I can't hold it back anymore!" She rarely displayed temper, rarely displayed anything. But each beat of her heart was strengthening her magic, and she was starting to buckle under the pressure.

"You can't let it go," the King just barely suppressed the urge to scream back at her. "Elsa, you _know_ this. Conceal it, don't-"

"It's not _working_!" She clenched both hands into fists. "Nothing ever works!"

"You're just not trying hard enough."

Time stood still for a fraction of a second. And in that fraction, Elsa's frazzled mind sparked a thousand thoughts.

_You have to get rid of this pain. You can't take this anymore. You're not good enough to be Queen. Or anything. You're not trying. There is something wrong with you. Let it go. Let everything go._

She gulped for air, the ice stabbed from the inside.

_No one will miss you. Anna hasn't seen you in days. She won't even notice you're gone. She won't even care._

Elsa bolted, not stopping even when her father called out to her. "Elsa! Elsa, come back here!"

She ran back to her room, nearly crashing into Kai. He looked startled, but concerned. "Princess? Is everything alright?"

She didn't answer. She ducked past him, to her room, to her safe haven. The pressure was building, the ice was growing. The fear was taking over, and the world hurt. She slammed the door, and ice sprang up around her instantly.

In the study, Agdar slumped into his chair, feeling thoroughly defeated. Idun appeared in the doorway mere moments later, looking concerned. He glanced up at her.

"I heard shouting." She spoke softly. There was a lingering chill in the air. "Is she alright?"

He shrugged helplessly. "I wish I knew."

A short silence descended, then they both looked abruptly to the window as dark clouds blocked out the sun. They traded glances, both entertaining the same nagging feeling about what was causing such a sudden change in the weather.

Then the wind began howling, the clouds darkened, and Agdar jumped to his feet, the fear evident in his voice. "Elsa!"

They both ran from the study.

* * *

><p>"That was the last letter she wrote." Anna tugged gently at Bae's ears; the calf was lying on her chest, eyes closed.<p>

Lying next to her in the dimly lit room, Elsa tensed a fraction more.

"All that pain. Her sister probably thinks that the last thing she felt." Anna didn't miss it when Elsa edged away from her, putting more distance between them, and the room grew slightly colder. "But it wasn't."

"What do you mean?"

"Mama was happy to be going. She was looking forward to seeing her sister." Anna smiled. "They had been apart for so long . . . and they were going to be together again. And that is a wonderful feeling. Mama wasn't upset. She was a little scared of leaving you."

"I know. She thought . . . well, I had everyone a bit worried at that point."

"I think we should write to her."

"What?"

Anna sat up a little bit, Bae slid down into her lap. He just pressed his face into her stomach and rearranged himself into a more comfortable sleeping position. "Write to Mama's sister. Let her know that everything was fine. She doesn't know that Mama was okay, and not knowing can be so hard. Write to her and tell her that everything is fine."

"Are you sure?"

"I think it'll help. It'll help you." Anna fumbled for one of Elsa's hands, in case Elsa tried to escape. "You can tell her that you're doing okay now. You're so much better. We only panic about you a little bit. And you're doing so well as Queen, and you've got all this stuff figured out."

"A letter?" Elsa questioned, still not entirely sold on the idea. "But . . . are you sure?"

"Letters are important," Anna said. "Think how much we learned from Mama's letters. Think how good it felt to get it all out there on paper. And . . . and if something happened to you, and we were far apart, I'd like to know about it. I'd want you to tell me." Anna bit her lip, giving Elsa a slightly sideways look.

Elsa sighed. "Okay, I get it. We'll write a letter. I'll do it tomorrow."

"Yes!" Anna practically leapt on top of Elsa, Bae was pushed aside. He landed on the floor in a bewildered heap. "Now there's only one more thing . . ."

Elsa was trapped under her sister; she heaved another sigh. "Yes?"

"That holiday . . ."

Anna had known mentioning a holiday would make Elsa uncomfortable. It was part of the reason she was pinning her sister down, so that Elsa couldn't escape from the conversation. Elsa squirmed a little, testing, seeing if Anna would get off her – also, this was very undignified and she was a Queen, damn it – but she gave up. Anna remained half-propped up, watching Elsa closely. "What holiday?"

"How long can we go for?"

"Will a day work?"

"No. Two weeks."

The temperature in the room dropped rather dramatically.

"Please? I'll pay you in hugs."

"You don't owe me anything," Elsa said, but the corner of her mouth quirked up a little. "But it does sound like a good payment."

Anna flopped down, now unable to see Elsa's face, in a clumsy attempt at a hug when Elsa was lying down. "I thought it would appeal to you."

How could it not? Years of forced isolation from contact had left Elsa jittery around people, anxious about personal space, and thoroughly starved for touch from her sister. And now, there was no danger in touch, there was no fear. Elsa wasn't constantly checking herself to see where Anna was. The first few nights they had spent together, Elsa had lain awake, tense and frigid, until she was certain Anna was asleep, then she would sneak out of bed and sit at the window, because she was too afraid of herself to relax for even a moment.

But those nights were long gone, and the hesitation in her touch had gone. She didn't think twice about contact anymore, she welcomed each and every hug, so many to make up for, and it still delighted her that Anna even wanted to hold her.

"How come you never ask?" Anna murmured after a while. At Elsa's questioning sound, Anna lifted her head and clarified. "You never ask for a hug. I know you want to. But you don't. Why not?"

Elsa swallowed. "You might say no."

"I'll never say no." Lying as she was, sprawled over Elsa, Anna didn't miss it when her sister's heartbeat increased. "Elsa?"

"You don't know that. One day you might not want to . . ."

"That'll never happen," Anna said, confident in her conviction, but her words sent Elsa's heart racing anew, and she was glad she had Elsa pinned in place, because otherwise she was certain her sister wouldn't be here anymore. "Hey. Hey, it's okay."

Elsa wanted to get away, she wanted some distance between them, because she wasn't always in control, and now was a terrible time for a relapse. "Anna-"

"I'm not letting you go," Anna said. "I know you think you need space, but you're wrong. You don't need space. You need me. You need me close."

"What if hurt you?"

"You'll hurt me so much more if you pull away." Anna replied into Elsa's shoulder, because admitting that hurt, because Anna needed warmth and contact more than Elsa, and every time Elsa turned away or took a step back was like a knife through the chest.

Elsa calmed slightly. _It's not just you who's hurting . . . it's Anna, too. And that's fine, and there's nothing wrong with that._

"Some things are never meant to be let go," Anna mumbled. "Like dreams, and beliefs, and sisters."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"Love hurts, Elsa. That's why you've been in agony. And that's why you spent so long feeling nothing. Because . . . because you forgot that you were loved. But I'm gonna remind you, every day. Okay?"

"Okay," Elsa agreed tentatively.

"Also, we still haven't decided where we're going on holiday."

"You're not going to let that go, are you?"

Anna grinned. "Some things shouldn't be let go."

* * *

><p>Elsa stood just inside the door way to her parents' room, alone and unhappy. She had missed that last hug. She hadn't been ready to say good bye. She hadn't had a chance to say good bye.<p>

_You're proud of me now,_ she thought, hands together, fingers locking. _Look at everything I'm doing._

The scars on her arm itched, the black voice hissed_, But there's still something wrong with you. You're ill, and you cannot change that._

"People don't really change," Elsa said, to the empty room and the even emptier black voice. "I'm still me. I'm still trying. I just . . . got lost for a bit. I couldn't see through all the ice. But Anna's helping me. She's . . . thawing everything." _Even me. And all the ice around my heart._

She stood in silence for a while, just enjoying the peace and the familiarity. She turned when she heard someone approach, looking curiously to the door.

Kai stood there, his face as kind as ever. "Queen Elsa. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Kai. I was just . . . taking a break."

He came into the room. "They have always been proud of you."

"Even . . . even when I tried to kill myself?" Now, her voice started shaking slightly. "How could anyone be proud of that? How could they even love me after that?"

"People make mistakes. Some people makes lots of small mistakes, others make a few big mistakes. You're so perfect-"

"No, I'm not," Elsa interrupted, and Kai interrupted her back.

"You are. Everything you do. Everything you try. You are exactly what this country needs. You're perfect to me, and you're perfect to Princess Anna. And your parents are proud that, after all the mistakes and all the hardships you faced, you're able to get to your feet again and carry on. You're stronger than you think. You have to be," he said, before she could try to contradict him, "Because you carry so much more than anyone else. No one can bear all that you do, and still be able to rule a country."

"It's hard for me."

"It would be hard for anyone." Kai came a little closer. "Your father struggled too."

"I miss him," Elsa said, in a small voice. "I wasn't ready for any of this. Maybe that made it worse."

"Life never gives us more than we can handle."

"But . . ." _But I get over whelmed, and I struggle, and I can't handle it all the time . . ._

"You have the strength to overcome anything. To change things. You're different to everyone else. You are magic. Let the world see how special you are. That's what your father always wanted."

"Parents always think their children are special," Elsa muttered.

"Yes." Kai agreed. "But yours were right."

She looked at him, slightly doubting, but wanting to believe. She needed to believe in something. "Do you think so?"

"Elsa." He looked in her the eye, with absolute faith in every word he spoke. "You were my baby too. I carried you to bed when you fell asleep in your father's study. I stood outside your door while you cried and refused to let anyone in. I have seen you every single day, through all the good and all the bad, and there will never be anyone else like you."

"But I'm so broken and . . . life is hard for me."

"One day," he put his arms around her; it might not be the most conventional move, but Elsa was his little girl too, "Someone is going to hold you so tightly that all your broken pieces will stick back together."

She buried her face in his chest.

"You're doing fine, Elsa. Please, believe me."

"I do," she said softly. "I believe you."

"And I'm sorry for all those years that I couldn't make you understand that."

"Not your fault," she gulped. "That was me. My fault."

"None of this has ever been your fault." He stroked her hair gently, just the way he used to. "Depression is not your fault. You didn't do anything to cause this. And underneath all that – all those terrible thoughts, and all that doubt – you're still my little girl, who wants to be Queen, and who loves her powers."

"How do you know that?"

"You said it yourself." He took a step back, so he could see her face. "People don't really change."

**So, there's a poll on my profile page about what I should write next, please go vote if you've got time. This story ends next chapter, and I really feel like I need another story, just so I've got something to look forward to and some task to fulfil. Or PM if you have an idea you want written down in a dry, rather melancholy style.**

**SpicedGold**


	12. Chapter 12 - Because I Do

Chapter 12 – Because I Do

"You're still the same Elsa you were all those years ago."

A terrified little child. A girl so afraid of herself that she couldn't eat, she couldn't sleep. Someone who shied away from contact through necessity, even though it went against every burning instinct in her body. The girl with the frozen heart that couldn't be cured, because you can't kiss a broken heart better.

"You were just hiding under ice," Kai said. "And hiding behind all those dark thoughts."

"I don't how to make them go away," Elsa whispered, because her voice wouldn't quite work, and she didn't know why. It might be the lump forming in her throat, because she had missed this so much. She needed someone to hold her up every now and again, someone to let her be the child she had to leave behind.

"You grew up too fast, Elsa. That's why life is so hard for you. You didn't have a chance to adjust."

She moved first, closing the distance between them, grabbing hold of Kai in another embrace. He smoothed her hair gently, not saying a word when her breathing became more ragged and barely controlled.

"But you've got everything you need, now. You've got Anna. You've got a council that's behind you every step of the way. And I'm still here for you. And we all know that you can handle anything."

"But I don't always know that," Elsa mumbled. "I _want_ to know that, I _want_ to believe, but these thoughts won't leave me alone."

The sun had set on her happiness years ago, and left her thoughts and feelings in the darkness. And then the ice had covered everything, and the darkness had been trapped in her mind with no possible way to escape.

"You'll figure it out. I know you will."

But now Anna had opened doors, both externally and internally, and her fiery personality was slowly taking all those dark thoughts and throwing them away. Anna was dragging Elsa out into the sunshine, and melting her ice.

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry."<p>

Anna nearly fell out of bed when Elsa spoke; she hadn't even heard her come into the room. "Wah?"

Elsa waited patiently, her expression unreadable, until Anna had calmed herself down and was staring at Elsa through the hazy twilight.

Elsa drew in a deep breath. "I'm sorry I scared you."

"Huh?"

"I don't want to be like this. And I don't want you worrying all the time. But . . ." She closed one hand in a fist, and a few stray snowflakes formed. "This is who I am. You're the one who wakes up every morning with the smile, and who sees the good in everyone, and who wants to save the world. I'm . . . not like that."

Anna waited, curiously.

"I don't like how I react to things. I don't even like myself, most of the time. Being happy is easy for everyone else. And for me . . . I was happy when it was just me, and my ice."

"Yeah, I know."

"But my ice can hurt other people. And so I think I kind of disagreed with it for a while. Felt like it shouldn't be here. It was out of control. But the thing is . . . my magic is a part of me. And if I'm at odds with magic, I'm at odds with myself."

Anna nodded.

"I only saw the danger in my magic, and myself. But . . . I remember when magic was fun. When we used to play. And laugh. And I want that back."

"Okay."

"I'm different. To everyone. The world looks different to me. And I've got to try and make that work for me. With your help. If you'll help?"

It wasn't even a question; of course Anna would help. "Seriously? Elsa, I'd help you with anything. You don't even need to ask, I'll just be there, all the time. And . . . and you'll be here, for me? Always?"

"Always and forever," Elsa promised. "I'm sorry I scared you. I didn't know what to do with myself. But . . . but I have this under control now. I can handle it."

Anna shook her head. "No. _We_ can handle it."

"Yes." A smile formed. "We can handle it."

"We also need to have a holiday." Anna said, and her ill-contained attempt not to laugh at Elsa's sudden unease nearly choked her. "Hey, relax! It's just a holiday. You're _supposed_ to relax on holiday."

"It's just . . . I've only just got myself under control _here_, where I'm comfortable. Now you want me to go somewhere else . . . what if my magic gets out of hand again?"

"That won't happen."

"How do you know?"

"Because I believe in you." Anna hopped out of bed. "Don't hide it, remember. You've got to let it go."

"Moderately. Safely." Elsa added tersely, because Anna had a tendency to let blind faith overcome common sense.

"By the way," Anna said, twirling some hair causally around her finger. "Do you think maybe you're throwing up all the time because you're worrying yourself over this holiday?"

"Excuse me?"

"I know what you've been doing. You threw up breakfast _again_ this morning."

"Are you following me?"

Anna rolled her eyes. "We shared a bed last night; I know what you do in the mornings. You had breakfast while I was still in bed, and then you came back to your room to change. I could _hear_ you, you know. What about dinner? You know you can't worry yourself sick over everything."

"I'm not worrying," Elsa said, slightly defensively, but dinner was now making unsettling movements in her stomach. This was the reason she had skipped lunch.

Anna gave her a look. "Yes, you are. What are you so afraid of?"

"Losing control. Losing you. I'm scared that I'll freak out and do something stupid. Anna, we've never been away from Arendelle, we have no idea what it's going to be like. What if I don't react the right way? I do that, you know, I often just-"

"Breathe," Anna ordered. "First of all, you're the only person who thinks you're going to lose control. No one else expects that. So stop panicking about it. You've got it all handled. Secondly, I'm gonna be at your side the whole time. Nothing can come between us. It'd be impossible for you to lose me. Thirdly, you don't do stupid things."

That wasn't entirely true, but Anna didn't think bringing it up would be very helpful.

"Fourth? You just react. It won't be wrong, because it'll be _you_. But you've got to eat; you're getting too run down."

"I am eating."

"And then you're freaking out over everything and throwing it all back up. A break will do you good. You worry too much."

"I'm just trying to be better," Elsa said.

"Baby steps, Elsa. You can't do everything all at once. And you get yourself into such a state thinking you're going to fail. It worries me. So . . . so when you are ready, let me know when we can take a break together. Don't do it just for me. You have to want it as well."

Elsa shrugged, eyes down.

"I love you," Anna said. "And I'll wait for as long as it takes. But, you, me, just us, with no pressure. That'll make you feel better. You know it will. And you know you need this, because you struggle to switch off and take a break, and as long as you're here you're going to work, and work, and you're gonna stay stuck in the same place."

Anna moved a bit closer, and drew Elsa in for a hug. "I know you're trying. I know that the fact that I'm scared is hurting you, and you want to make it right. So just be here for me. Take care of yourself. Show me every day that there's no danger of you ever leaving. There's no pressure. If you don't want a holiday now, that's fine. I can wait. But please don't make yourself sick worrying about it. I'll be waiting, when you're ready."

Elsa returned the hug fervently, holding tightly, to remind herself that Anna was here, and she was alive and real, and she was right – they would always be together, and safe. She waited for the black voice to chime in, to remind her of the crippling problems she had.

But her mind was silent.

"I smuggled chocolate up here after dinner," Anna said. She tried to pull away, but found that Elsa wasn't quite ready to let her go yet. "Want some?"

And this was just the final relief, because Elsa answered easily. "Yes."

* * *

><p>"Elsa?" Anna mumbled, because she was only half awake, but she had woken with the sudden notion that something might be amiss. Bae had been sleeping soundly, but that hadn't comforted Anna the way it used to. Elsa hid too much, it wasn't much of a leap to assume she could hide what she was feeling from herself, and thus from Bae.<p>

There was no reason for unease; Elsa and Anna had eaten dinner together, and Anna knew for a fact that Elsa hadn't left her study from that time until she retired to bed several hours later. "Why aren't you asleep?"

Anna rubbed her eyes, which turned out to be a mistake because once she closed them again they refused to open. She stood in the doorway, eyes closed and body heavy.

Elsa got up from where she had been sitting under the window. "I couldn't sleep."

This happened a lot. There was so much nervous anxiety twisting through her that she struggled to settle at night, she struggled to switch off. A lifetime of failure made her want to keep going, keep trying, to right all the wrongs.

"Well, I can, so . . ." Anna stumbled blindly forwards in the approximate direction of Elsa's bed. It was exhausting always assuming the worst – Anna had no idea how Elsa managed to do it. She was a zombie after only two days of it.

Elsa intercepted her before she planted herself face first onto the floor. "You didn't have to get up."

"Was worried," Anna muttered, as Elsa gently lowered her onto the bed. Anna yanked Elsa down with her. "Go to sleep."

"Worried about what?" Elsa wasn't tired; the moon was shining strongly and she was still planning things for tomorrow. She couldn't actually work – Kai had booted her out of the study hours ago and ignored her feeble protests that she was a _Queen_.

"You."

"I'm fine." The black voice reared up again, _You're not fine. You're not fine, and Anna can see it. And now all your hurt and all your secrets are holding her down too. This is all your fault._

"You're fine if you're here and I can see you." Anna said, and that drew a chuckle from Elsa, because Anna wasn't seeing anything at the moment.

"The sky is asleep," Elsa said softly. "So you should be asleep too."

"Gimme hug and I'll go to sleep."

Elsa smiled as she settled down with Anna. The black voice murmured, fingers of unreasonable despair weaving into her mind. She put an arm around her sister's shoulders to try to block it out, and the smile faded as quickly as it had arrived, and the doubts flooding came back.

"You're shaking." Anna mumbled.

"I'm not."

Anna forced her eyes open. "Yes, you are. Are you sure you're okay?" _Because I can't lose you, and I can't watch you try to hurt yourself again._

_I'm okay. I have you. And I want to be here, and I want to watch the sun rise, and bring another day._ "As long as you're with me, I'll be okay."

The scars itched, and the ice pushed, and her heart sped because sometimes she wasn't in control. And then the tears started, and that was okay too, because crying was alright, and it was good for her. Anna remained silent when Elsa buried her head in her sister's shoulder, and shuddering breaths were the only sound for a while.

"Why are you crying?" Anna asked, finally, after there had been silence for a while.

"Because I almost took myself away from you, again. Because love hurts. Because I need to let it go. Just because," Elsa whispered. Because there is always fear and doubt, lingering and murmuring, and Elsa knew she had to learn to deal with it, because she couldn't erase it. She just needed time, and comfort.

"I cried, too."

"Why?"

"Because you hurt so much. And we share everything."

"I-"

"Don't apologise. It's okay." Anna closed her eyes again.

Elsa glanced at the moon again, and ribbons of colour were forming in the sky. "The sky's awake now."

"Well, I'm not."

"You always used to wake up."

"Yeah, 'cause I thought it was magic, and I like magic. 'Cause you're magic, too. I know, I know," Anna yawned. "It's not really magic. It's just-"

"It is magic," Elsa said.

"Huh?" Anna frowned, and managed to pry her eyes open again. She came face to face with the cautiously content blue of Elsa's eyes. "But you said-"

"Hey," Elsa interrupted softly, with an equally soft smile. "I believe in magic."

The End.

**Thank you for reading. The poll on my profile page is still open.**

**Now I'm off to go and reflect on my life (sort of. I'm taking a holiday with my sister. I'm freakin' living this fanfic), so I will not have internet for the rest of the week. But all reviews and PMs will be read when I return. Thanks for all the support, I really do appreciate it. The sequel to this story will be their holiday :-)**

**SpicedGold**


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